Monday, December 13, 2010

Kommie Karaoke: He Found His Threel on Blyubirry Kheel

First, this Slavisied rendition of the Louis Armstrong classic is going directly to my I-Pod. I've been humming it all day.

Second, haven't we already seen this, in a way? Big Mafiosi and established dictators seem to always take a musical turn eventually. Like this guy, for instance.

Imagine that it was the Godfather, instead of Mama Corleone, who had gotten up to sing at his daughter's wedding. Every Underboss, Capo, and Button man in the family would have applauded like his life depended on it. And Johnny Fontaine would have applauded the loudest, just like those over-the-hill Hollywood types on Putin's guest list did. (Yes, I am thinking of Sharon Stone.)

Actually, that's exactly what the setting for this musical evening with Vladimir Putin reminds me of - a wedding. Albeit, a Polish wedding in a VFW Hall basement.

Mind you, that's not a diss. I've been to many such occasions. Backbone of the middle class, salt of the earth, sturdy yeomanry, and all that. Moreover, one is free to criticize the DJ at a Polish wedding without fear of being doused with polonium-210, and you can't say the same about critics of Putin.

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