The Schnitzel, as any good cook will tell you, is a lump of immature meat, encased in a crust. The only way to make it edible is to beat it within an inch of its life, and then plunge it into boiling oil. Mrs Weiner must be sorely tempted to take my culinary advice.
For there is a Mrs Weiner, despite the good congressmanâs desperate attempts to woo diverse cyber females into partaking of his crusty delicacy. What an interesting character she is.
I had expected this morning, on learning that the poor lady has just proudly announced her pregnancy to âclose family friends and familyâ â and the rest of the entire world as the news spreads round cyber land â to be defending another âMrs Bluntâ, another vulnerable lady left to pick up the pieces as her husbandâs infidelity is fed to the main stream media for our delight.
Far from it â though that doesnât lessen my initial reaction that rather than super-injunctions and judicial threats to Twitterers, if we really must have new laws, perhaps a âblanket lawâ, automatically awarding the entire family estate to any partner left embarrassed, humiliated, pace Giggs, belittled, pace Blunt, or defamed by their partnerâs inability to control their wish to advertise their sexual immaturity as widely as possible, would be a more effective way of clearing the main stream media of the endless tittle-tattle.
However, Mrs Weiner is special. Very special.
She started her working life as an intern in the Clintonâs sexually charged offices. Some internship, awarded to only a few lucky girls. Mrs Weiner had the good sense to align herself with Hilary, rather than Bill. Smart move. She has made remarkable progress.
In 2006, now listed as Senior Adviser, her salary had increased by a miserly $999.96 â not even a 10% pay rise; and yet she was able to purchase a $530,000 apartment in central Washington. She is famed for her collection of designer clothing, Oscar de la Ranta, Maladrino, Pravda, and is described as having a weakness for Yves Saint Laurent handbags. The Clintonâs attorney is quoted as saying that in the 11 years he had known her, she had never worn the same outfit twice.
She doesnât come from an apparently wealthy family â her Father who died when she was 17, was an Islamic academic, and her Mother a university professor. Neither professions renown for their ability to create wealth. Her Father, however, was able to found the âInstitute for Muslim Minority Affairsâ in Saudi Arabia, for which her Mother remains as a Director. The Saudi regime are known to spend billions of pounds each year promoting Islam and donating money to foundations which support Wahhabism.
Does any of this matter? Perhaps. For Hilary Clinton has long harboured Presidential ambitions. She is known to engage in the unorthodox practice of supplementing her âstaffersâ salaries with payments from her $13 million campaigning war chest. What could be more useful than a staffer with family connections to a limitless supply of money?
Today, Mrs Weiner is Hilaryâs âChief of Staffâ, in North Africa with her, her closest personal aide; apparently deciding, as the Americans like to do, on Ghadaffiâs fate. She may still be a âvulnerable ladyâ whoâs new pregnancy has been announced against a background of seedy sexual confessions from her husband, but she is sitting next to Hilary Clinton â a lady who can tell her a thing or two about rising above a mere maleâs peccadilloes.
Mrs Weiner is the mysterious Huma Abedin, a lady whose biography is littered with possible links to Saudi intelligence, and even more dramatic links to a suggested liaison with Hilary Clinton that goes way beyond Billâs short lived sexual liaisons, and hints at a strong romantic and emotional commitment.
Weinerâs Schnitzel moment is forcing one of Washingtonâs most persistent political rumours out of the closet.
Edited to add: Oh go on then, you prurient lot. Definitely not safe for workâ¦the Schnitzel revealed, courtesy of Andrew Breitbart.