I don't know, it must be so tempting, when you're the favorite of the gods, to throw it all away. This certainly would appear to be the case with Dominique Strauss-Kahn, jet-setting director of the International Monetary Fund and, until a certain incident in New York the other day, shoo-in for the Socialist nomination and probable dead cert for the presidency of France. ("Yes, he Kahn" was the Obamian campaign slogan du jour.) But not any more. DSK, as he is dashingly known, could hardly have done a better job of self-demolition if he'd strapped on the full jihadi kit and pulled the handle. Apparently the distinguished gentleman was emerging au naturel from the shower when a hapless chambermaid made an appearance; result: attempt to recreate Leda and the Swan, or, more crudely, a legover, there and then. Naked pursuit is also alleged to have taken place down the hallway, in the style of the late Senator Kennedy. Fortunately, the former president-presumptive failed in his rape attempt, but by scarpering instanter to Kennedy Airport and boarding the first flight to Paris, only to be removed in handcuffs by the NYPD, he does nothing to support his claims of innocence. So that's it: a brilliant career painstakingly constructed over decades, destroyed in one idiotic moment. Sic transit gloria and all that. Looks like Sarkozy might stand a chance again, after all. Or--screams, shock, horror-- Marine Le Pen.)
