Remember when Bill Clinton was in the throes of denying his affair with whatsername, the White House intern? Yeah. Tragic, wasn't it? If Bill had just manned up, the world would have been spared all that tedious American puritanism and barely louche jokes about cigars and stained dresses. Decorum, people, is one part savvy and four parts sheer balls.
So, yesterday Jay Kay denied having any sexual relations with Dowans, or knowing anything at all about anything that might be useful to anyone. In a nutshell he said: "I'm clueless. And, I'm powerless too. So don't bother me."
Dude. Seriously? Or, as we say in Bongoland: Duh?! Aiseee....
Sure, we understand plausible deniability. Even understand that Jay Kay was probably not directly involved in the cooking of the Richmondowans books. Because that would take foresight, skill and a certain savoir-faire that we can't accuse Jay Kay of possessing following his recent statements. Hell, TIA: we even understand that it's perfectly acceptable for a rich/powerful/politician dude to throw his friends under the bus for expedience. Sure.
But irrefutable PR disasters? That's just not how we want our Presidents to roll. Which is why I gotta ask: where in the world is the Ikulu Director of Communications? If I held that job (CJ Craig, what what!) and my boss was about to put his foot in his mouth and eat it with ketchup, I would engage him in a flying tackle that would knock his presidential ass out long before he could say anything so damaging to the Office of the Presidency. I mean, c'mon! Half a decade of independence, one pan-african hero, a towering (ahem) international political reputation and our President thinks it's a good idea to come across as a developmentally challenged head of state?
...flying tackle for sure. Because no matter how ignorant you are, as a President and (theoretically) a paramount leader of an independent nation, there is one thing you are not allowed to do: cheerfully admit your fricking incompetence to the world. Jeez, Ikulu: can I buy you a clue?