Though I’ve always found a certain horrid fascination in watching Newt Gingrich’s adoption of various self-destructing personas — conservative “intellectual,” futurist, family-values tub-thumper, race-baiting demagogue — I confess that I was startled by the sheer weirdness that comes across in this Esquire interview with the lil’ lizard’s second wife. How to describe this bizarre troll? Damaged little boy? Deluded sociopath? How reassuring to know this strutting gnome no longer has a chance to getting anywhere near the levers of power.
I’d like to think the interview will kill Gingrich’s standing in the GOP, but tribal identity politics are all that remain of the party’s principles, and the lil’ lizard knows all the shibboleths and secret handshakes that grant access to the great bedlam of movement conservatism. There’s certainly no way he’ll ever disappear from FoxNoise or the Sunday squawk shows, where the rubes never fail to squeal whenever Gingrich, like a blowsy strumpet flashing a bit of thigh, starts hinting that this just might be the year he makes a try for the White House.