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Kass: Daley and the Chumbolone Flu
Note the reference to Allison Davis.
Learned professors from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention are probably skedaddling to Chicago -- equipped with cool scientific stuff like Bunsen burners, beakers and smoking dry ice -- now that Mayor Richard Daley has emerged from his sickbed with the flu.

After watching Daley insist that he didn't know until it was too late that his nephew Robert Vanecko received almost $70 million in city pension fund money to invest, I've formed my own amateur diagnosis.

The Boss of Chicago, our beloved King Shortshanks, must be in the grip of a virus so rare it has only now been discovered. Technically, let's call it the B1-S1 virus, or B-S for short.

But my colleague Wings has just given it a fancy Latin name: Chumbolonius verbalis fibbus, or, more commonly, the Chumbolone Flu.

The Chumbolone Flu shall be known by this defining sign: The afflicted suffers from the delusion that everyone around him is a chumbolone who believes what he's told.

Another symptom of the Chumbolone Flu is that the victim is often compelled to read a statement that was obviously drafted by lawyers, then almost whispers in a quiet voice: My statement speaks for itself.

"First of all, while many of you have speculated that somehow I knew about Bob's [his nephew's] business relationship, I did not," Daley said, reading from a statement. "I found out about it the same way most people did, in news, when the story broke. When I did find out, I made it very clear it was not a good decision and that he should end the business relationship immediately."

Those of you who have been paying attention know that Vanecko resigned this week from DV Urban Realty, the company he formed with Allison Davis (President Barack Obama's first law firm boss) to invest the city pension funds.

And federal authorities are investigating how those deals for Daley's nephew and Davis were approved, and by whom and why.

Only a chumbolone would believe that the pension board members wouldn't run to the mayor like little eager puppies, to tell him that his nephew was sniffing around for $70 million.

And only a chumbolone would believe that the pension board members would go out of their way to defy the mayor and give his nephew the money to invest, if they thought Daley might be the least bit opposed.

See how the B1-S1 virus works?

"Everyone knows that perception is everything," the mayor read. "Perception is. And Bob's decision very clearly led to the perception that rules are broken or preferential treatment [was] given. It is a perception that follows almost every business transaction involving any Daley family member or any aspect of local government or any other government."

Translation: Any time a Daley does something involving $70 million and a government controlled by the mayor, people have this weird propensity to think the boss might know what's going on.

Oh, the heartbreak of the Chumbolone Flu.

While some broadcast reporters tried to change the subject, stubborn print reporters valiantly attempted to focus on what he knew and when. Tribune City Hall reporter Dan Mihalopoulos asked the best question:

Mayor, you have representatives on the city pension boards. Did you talk with them about DV Urban?

"No, no," Daley said, but he added that the city treasurer and the Daley administration's chief financial officer are, by statute, appointed to the boards that decide how to invest the pension funds for city workers.

Clearly, Daley expects us to believe that people who owe their livelihood to Daley would never bother to say, 'Hey, Your Highness, what's up with your nephew Bobby asking for all that cash? Should we give it to him?' "

Fran Spielman of the Sun-Times asked what he'd tell folks who don't believe him.

"Fran, things happen in families. That's it," said Daley, perpetuating the Sun-Times spin that the nephew can defy the mayor and still receive millions to invest. "That's all I have to say."

Then, with the stern voice of a strict nurse protecting a beloved patient, Daley's press secretary, Jacquelyn Heard, interrupted, saying, "Are there questions on any other topics? Otherwise, we're going to end the press conference."

So I asked: You're not going to answer questions about your nephew?

He clenched his teeth but bravely repressed his inner Mayor Chucky, though he probably wanted to unleash Chucky on me.

"I answered questions," Daley said. "The statement speaks for itself."

And he looked around, as if we believed him, the poor guy.

Those learned scientists from the CDC can't get here fast enough. Hurry, boys! Don't forget the white lab coats.

O Chumbolonius verbalis fibbus, please release the proud mayor of Chicago from your evil grasp.
Posted by: mom 2009-06-12
http://www.rantburg.com/poparticle.php?ID=271819