It's with a heavy heart that we Umericans bid adieu to Weiner Gate. Did it not manage to take our minds off the petty details of our own empty souls? Did it not manage to make us feel a little more smug about those of us who haven't been involved in a national sex scandal? Did it not manage to further careers of journalists, perhaps some who can proudly say to their grandchildren, "I was there. I interviewed Wiener about his wiener."
And that is why I am demanding that Congress immediately vote upon a new Weiner Gate Memorial to be added to the National Mall; because we as a nation want, deserve, but above all, need it.
Imagine a giant marble tight boxer style undergarment concealing an unseemly bulge beneath. Majestically it will rise up, rivaling the Washington Monument, a perpetual reminder of the moment we as a nation (except the Amish) took a gander at a very amateurish cock-shot and either snickered like 10 year old boys or screeched in horror like lesbian nuns. (Except the Amish. I suppose that goes without saying, so just assume that for future reference, the Amish are generally not going to be included.)
Visitors will walk into the main lobby, and every slightly risqué shot of the wienerman will be reproduced as huge murals (and will also include the contribution of the humble peasants of Mexico to their history). And, there will be a family restaurant there, serving burgers and freedom fries and other crap.
Visitors will walk up the interior spiral staircase, the walls of which will be a museum and a tribute to the greatest journalists of our time: Wolf Blitzer, Luke Russert, Ryan Seacrest, and (all those others whose names I'm too lazy to look up). Photos and excerpts on plaques of their Wiener Gate interviews (because let's face it, none of these people will be remembered for anything else) shall be thrust into the faces of visitor, whose understanding of the beauty of the First Amendment will arise as they do, higher and higher, until they reach the climax: The Bulge.
This will be even more spectacular than everything that preceded it. There will be a bar, Cock Shotz (you'll never guess the name of their best known drink), a library tediously documenting every last bit of the scandal, a video game palace and day care for the kids, and a Starbucks. In the center will be an empty glass sarcophagus wherein Anthony Wiener shall eventually be mummified and entombed for eternity and for selling hats and t-shirts and whatnot. And there, finally, we will look at his naked pickled corpse and see IT for real. Probably will be a bit of let down, like when I saw Lenin's.
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