admin @ Wed, 2006-09-20 08:01
Okay, so the guy is gay. So what. Who cares. No one believes McGreevey stepped down because of his sexual orientation. So why does he keep repeating this oft-repeated lie.
But if you decide to pick up the book, and let me tell you I don’t recommend it at all, you will discover the seedy side of New Jersey politics through the eyes of an admitted habitual liar and first-class political sleaze.
Yesterday, as I watched McGreevey tell his sordid story to Oprah I couldn’t help but notice McGreevey’s behavior was similar to any common criminal caught in the act.
It’s funny: There are no atheists in foxholes; there are no atheists in court and now we discovered there are no atheists in the wake of a collapsed political career.
In the book, McGreevey takes swipes at a lot of people, while at the same time tries to paint a picture of benevolence and messiah-like attributes for his closest supporters.
McGreevey talks about the New Jersey warlords (his word) as the uberbosses of the New Jersey political landscape -- South Jersey Democratic Party boss George "The Boss" Norcross, recently defrocked uberboss John Lynch, whom McGreevey says holds down the central Jersey political landscape; and his pal, confidant and mentor state Sen. Ray Lesniak.
Lesniak is the only uberboss to find God according to McGreevey. I guess we’re suppose to believe that Lesniak is now above reproach or conviction, if that were to ever become a reality.
But the biggest laugh in the book comes when McGreevey actually wrote: "I made a vow to pursue my agenda no matter what the bosses and warlords had to say about it, knowing they’d do what it took to stop me. This decision was late in coming. I wish I’d made it from the first day of my administration. But I worried that I’d never be able to raise the money for reelection without Lynch, by far the most powerful warlord in the state."
You broke your ties with the warlords? That’s funny. It seemed that guys like Lynch, Norcross, Lesniak, and even Sen. Bob Menendez, Sharpe James, Steve DiMicco and others were always pulling your strings.
McGreevey goes so far as to write that when he decided to break with the warlords, uberbosses and party bosses, that he called up now-Gov. but then-Sen. Jon Corzine and now-Sen. then-Congressman Bob Menendez "to secure their support in case this erupted into a full-scale war."
Menendez is looked upon as the uberboss of Hudson County, and Corzine has painted himself as the uberboss of anyone, and everyone, he can give a loan or gift to.
Does he really think we have a reason to believe anything that comes out of this book just because somebody decided to give it the cutesy title "The Confession"?
To his credit McGreevey does talk about the various scandals that plagued his tenure as governor. But not once does he take responsibility for the scandals, nor does he shed any new light on the scandals.
In every case, the scandals surrounding the sale of billboards by Gary Taffet and Paul Levinsohn, the "Machiavelli" case with Mark Halper, Roger Chugh, and on and on and on.
But despite all the things that are left out of "The Confession" there is one thing that you really come to believe as you read the book: McGreevey was a tortured man.
Whether you accept homosexuality or despise it, there is a certain sadness in reading how someone can struggle with their identity and come to believe that lying is the only way to remedy the situation.
But we all believe deep down inside that there is a bigger truth behind the rise, fall and eventual collapse of Jim McGreevey. But for that we’ll probably have to wait until he has enough courage to give us his "The True Confession."
Charles Webster is the political columnist for The Trentonian. His ‘Under the Dome’ column appears every Monday and Wednesday. He can be reached at cwebster4@trentonian.com.
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