America's blockhead

They don't make newspaper columnists like Jimmy Breslin anymore, and we're all the poorer for it. From a column purportedly about Mitt Romney is this gem about Rudolph Giuliani:

I today direct you to how religion overwhelmed this Giuliani, who always has been a little man in search of a balcony. Each time he inspected a height he stood there and rehearsed for the moment when the whole nation would look at him in fear and awe. Then he paused to scowl at the West Side of Manhattan, with its grubby liberals who say that he was the worst mayor we've had. Then came the attack on the World Trade Center and Giuliani ran right up the street from the smoke and into a television studio. There he remained for day after day until the cameras made him America's Mayor.

I mean, you could read the I-can't-believe-there-are-still-trees-left New Yorker profile (in 16 parts) or professional Rudy-hater Wayne Barrett's Village Voice job (or not read Harper's take).

But really, Breslin's sketch of him atop a balcony really captures it all; the arrogance, the righteousness, the terrible isolation, the fascism, the evocation of Mussolini and (Eva) Peron, the stature--even the Italianness.

Uncredited photo of Giuliani in various places online.