After a series of revelations regarding the RNC’s Young Eagles program, I would simply like to tell those involved the following:
Look kiddos, if you’re gonna play w/ the Big Boys in DC – wear your Big Boy Pants, not your California Poseur outfits. The abject stupidity of this behavior… defies logic.
And to them, as well as anyone else who defends these ‘staffers’:
Working inside the Beltway ain’t a party at the St Regis, hosted by the Makarechians. Get it together, or get out of the business. Republican donors, and voters all across the spectrum are paying attention.
You have no moral authority to go after Democrats unless you live right, work right and respect the people. The FEC reports are read by adults in the business and in journalism. Anyone who conducts themself this way deserves a solid thrashing and ejection from the payroll.
Electoral politics is not the forum for your little Eyes Wide Shut fantasies, on the Donor’s dime. Just ask the myriad of people who failed out of politics before you. (Remember Jack Ryan, the fella who withdrew in 2004 from the US Senate race in Illinois that gave us Senator Obama? So yes – your behavior may well have unforeseen consequences.)
Thus far, those consequences include the RNC appropriately sacking a couple of staffers/consultant types, as well as accepting the resignation of RNC Chief of Staff Ken McKay.
In case you think me too harsh, here is an excerpt from the Los Angeles Times’ review of Voyeur, the sex club where Erik Brown, the newly canned RNC consultant, dropped nearly $2,000 – which he requested – and received – reimbursement for.
The dark, leather-heavy interior is reminiscent of the masked orgy scene from the movie. The reference is taken a step further with impromptu bondage and S&M “scenes” being played out on an elevated platform by scantily clad performers throughout the night — not presented as “shows,” like they are in clubs such as Playhouse Hollywood. There is also a heavy net suspended above the club’s lounge area where performers writhe above the heads of clubgoers. Even more provocative scenes are played out in an enclosed glass booth area adjacent to the club’s dance floor area.
“It’s pretty . . . intense,” clubgoer Lee Stone admitted on opening night as one female performer with a horse’s bit in her mouth was being strapped to the wall by another just behind the booth he was sharing with friends. His friend was more intrigued by the action. “I wonder if I would get in trouble for joining them?” she joked. [emphasis mine]