|Politique Diabolique||Mar 1 2010|
Italian prime minister Silvio Berlusconi lets his inner horndog off the leash.
We’ve posted about Italian prime minister Silvio Berlusconi before, but unfortunately we have to feature him anew, because once again he has made jaws drop internationally. This time, he has unveiled a list of party candidates for the upcoming Italian elections, and he is endorsing a weather girl and a beauty pageant contestant, among others. We’ve been told by our elders that once upon a time actual experience was a prerequisite for political office, but we don’t believe that. We’re part of the generation that understands such positions have no prerequisites. Nicole Minetti, top left, was a dentist’s assistant when Berlusconi spotted her last month while he was having two broken teeth repaired after being hit in the face with a statuette. We can picture the scene: high on ether, Berlusconi gets an eyeful of young boobage and realizes if he wants to see them again he'll have to concoct a scheme that doesn't involve having his teeth drilled each time.
But Minetti isn’t the only woman to make Berlusconi’s pulse quicken. With a veteran horndog’s flawless eye for subjects on whom to test his Cialis, he has also chosen to back former Miss Italy finalist Italia Caruso, ex-model Graziana Capone, and ex-nightclub hostess and weathergirl Giovanna Del Guidice. This marks Berlusconi’s second attempt to turn the Italian legislature into his personal harem. Last year he offered up a group of showgirls for election but dropped them after his wife called him trashy. Berlusconi solved that problem by not contesting her divorce petition. Now nothing stands in the way of his bodacious dream government except political opposition. He’s dealing with that by branding attacks against his candidates as sexist, and in fairness to the women involved, Berlusconi has also floated unqualified men for party positions, including Giorgio Puricelli, the physiotherapist for his football club AC Milan. But there’s a twisted genius to that selection—after all, Berlusconi is seventy-three, and he’ll need major work on his sacroiliac if his fantasies materialize.
In the meantime, whether the attacks against his candidates are sexist or not, he still can’t explain why a dental hygienist with no previous interest in politics, and whom he met a mere month ago during a drug-induced stupor, is qualified to represent the Italian people. Nor can he present a convincing argument for why he seems to have ignored women who don’t look like models, even though such women make up the vast majority of the population, even in fashionable Italy. Frankly, we suspect he isn’t going to try. Elderly billionaires tend to take offense when asked to explain their actions. One thing is certain—if Berlusconi’s appetites make him, Italian politics, and Italy in general look utterly ridiculous, well then, “Que sera sera.” For those that don’t speak Italian, that translates, roughly, as “Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.”