During his first campaign for governor, Andrew Cuomo should have been reported to the police as a missing person, so much so that at one newspaper a wall clock was maintained showing the weeks and months during which he fled the prospect of press interviews. And so he is today. The reason? He is unable in fright to control his temper when questioned by the press and more so he seems to live in a state of anguish because intellectually he has a short stick.
He seems to prize cunning, feeding the public as if it were a dancing bear, laughing at them from backstage. His shallow voice coats his shallow thoughts. No scholar this one and surely no Spitzer is he. If ever these two were in a debate, Cuomo would end up like meat passing through your butcher’s grinder.
How incredible that the Democrat Party, my party, would push him down the public’s throat, a person notoriously obsessed with becoming the president, a nervous walk-on character right out of The Sopranos, good when crouched over a deal in the dark, but in real life lacking the depth that evokes the respect of others. Give him a sneaky way to con the public, and he’ll kiss your feet. He is the hustler whose idea of a good faith offer is a pail of milk with a dead rat lying at the bottom.
Read Cuomo’s words when he was caught lying about his self-serving intervention in the work of the Moreland Commission: “it’s my commission”..;”it is mine”…”it is controlled by me”. He had proposed setting up the Commission as the high water ethical mark for our state government and then grievously wounded it in order to satisfy the whores who suck money out of their governmental positions.
Would you lend Andrew Cuomo your lawn mower? If you died, would you rest in peace with Andrew Cuomo in charge of your estate or of your dog?