THAT SOUND YOU HEAR is the gloves coming off the candidates for mayor of Philadelphia. As the gloves hit the floor the sound they made was "Fake. Fake. Fake." I first heard it Saturday evening during a TV commercial attacking the frontrunner in the Democratic primary, which ended with the words, "Tom Knox: Fake, Fake, Fake." Welcome to bareknuckle politics, Philadelphia style. One thing I can guarantee is that those sounds will grow louder and more frequent during the next 16 days leading to the May 15 election. The airwaves will be filled with the pitterpatter of gloves, blackjacks, anvils and kitchen sinks being thrown by the candidates or their proxy non-profit "Truth" sqads.
The fake, fake, fake ad (all you need is K.C and the Sunshine Band as background music and you could dance to it) is the handiwork of a mysterious and recently formed political interest group called Working People for Truth, the very name of which sounds like a lie. Working People for Truth is a local version of an "independent" political group like Swift Boat Veterans for Truth, which sank John Kerry's candidacy for president. Such groups are called 527's, presumably because that is the number in the IRS tax code that applies to them, however in truth they're called 527's because the number 666 was already taken.
With just over two weeks to go in what had been an extraordinarily gentlemanly election campaign by Philadelphia standards, the fake, fake, fake ad (you got the beat -- just substitute "fake your duty" for "shake your booty" ) signals the replacement of Mr. Nice Guy as campaign manager by a guy named Bruno who won't give his last name. Until now the harshest words spoken by any of the candidates' campaigns toward an individual have been directed toward Mayor Street by Michael Nutter, who's campaign was languishing near the bottom of the pack until he unleashed his secret weapon -- his adorable daughter -- on the airwaves. Those "my dad" ads transformed Nutter's public persona from that of a back bench malcontent with a voice like Bert from Sesame Street into Cliff Huxtable, seemingly overnight. While the long knives were sharpening to carve up Knox, Nutter has emerged down the stretch like Smarty Jones at the Preakness. Unless yesterday's rousing endorsement for mayor by The Inquirer jinxes him, Nutter should now be seen as the frontrunner. In which case you can expect to see attack ads from a newly formed 527 called Barrom Smokers for Truth. Cough, cough, cough.
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