These are the basics: Republican representative from New York gets busted for Craigslist shenanigans. That's it in a nutshell - technology's ease entreating yet another public figure to casually and carelessly flush his career down the toilet.
Right now, ex-representative Christopher Lee is probably trying to score lobbying work, conferring with a divorce attorney, skulking around Washington D.C. in a Unabomber hoodie, or pumping iron at Gold's Gym. If he's got any sense, he's not sending more emails like this to strangers on the Internet: "Hope I'm not a toad. :) i'm a very fit fun classy guy. Live in Cap Hill area. 6ft 190lbs blond/blue. 39.. Lobbyist. I promise not to disappoint." After all, you never know who's on the receiving end. Could be a Gawker blogger. Could be a Moral Majority plant. Could be your wife. Ponder that, ex-Rep. Lee, while you chew on this playlist.
Perhaps the tastiest aspect of this scandal is the attached visual, i.e. the evidence, the smoking gun, the bloody tire-iron, the cell-phone photo Lee snapped of himself in a mirror, shirtless, flexing his muscles, extra-butch, left shoulder provocatively and suggestively slouched as if he were a circus strongman or Vince McMahon.
"No Chance In Hell" is McMahon's WWE entrance music; "no chance in Hell!" is probably what Lee's wife hissed through the chain at him when he tried to get into his house on the evening Gawker broke this story.
Electronic, "Getting Away With It"
Just how long had Lee been getting away with this sort of thing? How many unsuspecting desperate housewives had he suckered into bed on the basis of wannabe-Popeye cell-phone snaps boomeranged willy-nilly through cyberspace? We'll probably never know that, and we'll likely never know whether Lee preferred The Smiths or was more of a New Order man, but we do know this: before Lee started making the wrong kind of headlines, he had a wife and a son. It's entirely possible that that's no longer true.
The Free Design, "The Proper Ornaments"
Man, this song fairly drips with acidic scorn, with derision, with la-la-la disgust, a timeless condemnation of too-pat public lives tricked out with lifestyle porn decors and blue-blood autos and prop tots, a superbly adhesive sneer. I bet Lee would loathe this shit; if he had control over the authorship of this blog post, he'd probably switch it out for "Don't Hold It Against Me."
Paul Simon, "Kodachrome"
Everybody - and Gimme Noise does mean everybody - did dumb shit in high school. Most people who went to college pulled boners in college. And it's generally understood that people make mistakes - it's part of growing up, becoming an adult, learning the limits and figuring one's self out. But, like, when you manage to lie, cheat, steal, or straightforwardly score a seat in Congress, it's really time to stop fucking around. A common sense default setting should kick in. You should not be trying to hook up with chicks via Craigslist or dialing madams more often than your party whip. You are not Tiger Woods; he can bounce back from Bimbogate, but for you Bimbogate probably means you'll never get to be a senator. One to grow on.
Ice-T, "You Played Yourself"
That's just it, isn't it?