This NewAge Is Truly A World Of Wonder

"Finally, half-way through the book come 'the good parts.'

Young starts to notice the Senator flirting with waitresses, but thinks nothing of it.

He is a little quizzical, though, when a woman who picks up Edwards at the Regency is given a $100,000 contract to do video work.

This would be Rielle Hunter, née Lisa Druck.

Young decides she looks practiced at 'identifying rich men, married or not, and connecting with them—at least temporarily.'

Young writes that, when arriving in New York in her early twenties, she briefly dated Jay McInerney and wound up in Story of My Life as 'the repulsive character Alison Poole.'

Oh, and her father participated in a horse-killing insurance scam.

Young then goes on to paint her as a forty-one year-old round-heeled fruitcake who 'when she first saw John Edwards she noticed "an aura" of energy floating over him. When she made eye contact with the senator, she knew their destinies were intertwined, and that she had been sent to Earth to serve him.'

And of course everyone knows the rest.

Boy runs for president, meets trollop, knocks her up, can’t afford the scandal, arranges a financial cushion (see FBI agents, IRS agents, and the officers of the U.S. Attorney for the Eastern District of North Carolina) and all hell breaks loose.

Or rather, the National Enquirer is on to him. (It has just been nominated for a Pulitzer for its coverage of this nationally repercussive sordidness.)

Of course Young, the good shnook, is recruited to be the admitted father of Rielle’s baby bump.

And did I mention that Rielle and Edwards agreed on an 'open' relationship?

With time, Edwards started to complain that Rielle was crazy, just as he had complained about his wife.

By now Young had become the beard in order to keep Rielle around.

It was decided that Elizabeth’s recurrence of cancer would be useful to the campaign. Ick.

When Rielle reveals she is with child, Edwards elevates her title to 'crazy slut.'

As some mistresses are wont to do, Rielle became jealous of the real wife.

She was infuriated when there was a lot of publicity about the Edwardses renewing their vows on their thirtieth anniversary and then celebrating at Wendy’s. (Wendy’s?!)

The running and hiding and supporting Rielle and the Youngs on the run was financed by (metaphorically) poor, trusting, Democratic, aged Bunny Mellon—to the tune of six million dollars. 

Another rich supporter, a Texan lawyer named Fred Baron (since deceased), also paid for the care and upkeep of Rielle, then the baby—but he, at least, knew where the money was going.

The lesson, if that is the word, of this sad and tawdry book is that Young was being played by John Edwards, and that a stiff whaddya-call-it has no conscience and no brains, either.

When I read Young’s account of Edwards saying, essentially, that if the truth did come out, it would be a one day story because 'everyone knows' that politicians fool around, I felt that Edwards and Hunter deserved each other.

Oh yes, and it’s possible that Rielle herself tipped off the Enquirer."

-- Margo Howard, reminding TMR of all the hurtful nonsense NewAge stupidity sets in motion - her review of Andrew Young's book is called "The Losers" - when no one's trying to get Rielle, but working towards The New Republic.