The fall of Eliot Spitzer reminds us once again of that ancient credo: Those who live by the sword, die by the sword. I think we all needed a little soul-searching after that You, Me and Ashley Dupre comedy of Eros, so I did my humble part. After rummaging through past columns I decided I must, no matter the cost, practice what I preach. It was like being reborn.

Following my own stated principles, I rushed out and had anonymous sex with an incredibly hot Latin whose IQ matched his endowment, hurled pea soup and expletives at the woman who gave me a Jesus Loves You pamphlet, told the one-armed man that I can’t settle for half a relationship, the woman who says my dog’s fat that she’s the one who should lay off the kibbles and bits, re-wrote previous tear-jerking columns so they’re even more manipulative than before, accepted cash payments for positive write-ups (have I ever mentioned how talented David Sedaris is?), and kiss-assed my way to the top; my boss at "Edge" is the most attractive man I’ve ever been introduced to. Should I meet him face to face, I’ll be sure to tell him.

I haven’t felt this much release since three male prostitutes serviced me in a Cancun-hotel honeymoon suite. God bless travel-writing perks.

Now that I’m certain the House of David has never been soiled - only oiled and lubed - I decided to devote the rest of this column to all the other things that make me Tip the Mime. Besides, I needed to take a break from the book I’m writing, "Women Who Hate Women and the Men Who Love to Profit From It."

(For those of you who don’t know, "Tip the Mime" is an expression derived from the 1982 movie "Tootsie," in which a fed-up Dustin Hoffman walks by a performing mime and tips him over. It’s a terrific example of politically incorrect outrage and frustration, and one I hold dear to my heart - especially as I made the phrase up.)

I’ve been too hard on President Bush. For eight years the inexperienced man from Texas has secured his position as Commander In Chief by silencing America, successfully labeling anyone who doesn’t believe in him as "unpatriotic," a God-ordained ideal that got him a free pass from the media (enabled by Ours Truly), and turned anyone who had a harsh word into an infidel, all the while remaining folksy in public and compassionate on paper. How could I possibly criticize that type of leadership when Barack Obama’s followed it all the way to the frontrunner bank? "Divisive" is the new McCartheyism, and I’ve ordered my McUniter pin. The Democratic Party has gotten so smart in playing the game, they’ve adopted their own blithering-idiot, sexist mascot: MSNBC’s Keith Olbermann is possibly the only newscaster who makes Ted Baxter look like Walter Cronkite.

Now that Hillary’s been branded the Millennium’s David Duke by Oba-mann, why can’t we just go back to talking about issues? As Obama’s supporters keep enlightening us, to bring up the silly fact that Barack’s mentor and pastor for 17 years, Jeremiah Wright, supports Farrakhan and calls America "the United States of KKK," is to be divisive. Unity’s what’s important, the unity of Ferraro resigning, so we can go back to discussing him, as we understand him. If Geraldine had any brains, she would have followed Wright’s lead and said something less controversial, like "Obama does to his wife what he does to white America." Thank God Senator Clinton (C-NY) wasn’t catty enough to demand the pastor’s resignation from Barack’s campaign after he made that somewhat personal Monica analogy. (And what’s all this fuss about who the real bogeyman is in Hillary’s 3 a.m. commercial spot? Clearly, it’s William "Jefferson-Slave-Owner" Clinton.)

And people say the media’s going easy on Obama? My god, to find the Wright Tapes, someone had to go through all the trouble of getting on the Internet, clicking on the Trinity United Church of Christ Web Site, purchasing the sermons with a credit card, waiting for the package to arrive, putting it in the DVD player, and pressing "Play." It makes Kenneth Starr’s investigation look like the White House Easter Egg Hunt. Perhaps Barack should have sensed trouble brewing, but who in the Obama camp or every news outlet in the country has access to a credit card and a DVD player? Olbermann is so fair and balanced, he even brought Obama on his show, so the two could schmooze and talk issues and race and have a real man’s-man chat - much simpler after Satan and her race-speaking minion had been put back in their places, barefoot and pregnant with shame. Donald Trump would have been a welcome relief.

It’s imperative that I credit the staff of Arianna Huffington’s Post, who’ve been salivating with glee in their salaciously wonderful "Nail the Bitch" Hillary tomes like they were going out of style. They’re not. I applaud them because I can tell you from personal experience that it is extremely difficult to type with one hand and masturbate with the other. I also understand why nobody read all of what Ms. Ferraro said about race, and simply latched onto the sound bites. Reading an entire article about politics is almost as insufferable as reading an entire article about its partisan roots. If she had said "Barack Obama’s color is helping him get a part in ’A Raisin in the Sun,’" I think we know which half of that sentence would have been plastered over the news. And nothing’s as manicure-polish fun as hearing another famous female columnist call Geraldine Ferraro "the woman who helped Walter Mondale lose in 49 States in 1984." No wonder the country is filled with so many fag-hags: We’re the only ones who give the gals a break.

As a friend of mine pointed out, I only say negative things about Barack Obama because, as a New Yorker, I feel loyalty toward Hillary Clinton (Remember, you can’t dislike Obama; you can only resist his eventual pull). Wiser words were never spoken: Now I understand why I deliberately pulled the hair off my head so I’d resemble Rudy Giuliani, why I will continue to sing the praises of Fox TV, and why I never have, nor ever will, say a negative thing about Broadway’s Phantom of the Opera. (Note to self: Cancel Equinox Gym membership and join the more-appropriate New York Sports Club, and not just because the steam room’s an easier place to find a trick than the Mayflower Hotel.)

And don’t even think about criticizing me. Anyone who takes that tactic is homo-visive (a word that roughly translates to "homophobic and intolerant of my vices"). If people really wanted unity, they’d gather around me and then talk about the issues. And believe me, I have a lot of issues. Those exes who dumped me? Homo-visive. How else do you explain their ripping my heart in two? Those men who won’t sleep with me? Homo-visive. Especially the heterosexual ones, for that’s destroying the bond all great-looking men should share, and the bondage I’ve offered to share with them. Join me, literally, or be straight-listed.

I know a man who’s been a champion of gay and lesbian rights for twenty years. He’s on every Rainbow committee the city has, and spends his spare time volunteering for organizations that fight discrimination and hate crimes and all matters relating to homophobia. I applaud his efforts, but I have one problem with him: He doesn’t like heterosexuals. He won’t enter Chelsea now that it’s been "integrated," he will take gay friends into a straight bar to deliberately create a disturbance, yet, at a gay beach several years back, he cussed a straight couple off the sand, screaming at them to go home. He’s told me that he has no desire to socialize with men who sleep with women and vice versa, and he’s not once invited a straight man or woman into his home.

Were my friend to run for political office, I would hesitate in supporting him, because I think his reverse-discrimination is counter-productive. He’d also be, dare I say it, too divisive to speak for a larger audience. I would also stay away from his mentors, which, unfortunately, included my college roommate, Jon, his boyfriend of several years. While the two of them were a couple, I stopped seeing Jon because I got tired of hearing hetero-bashing on a regular basis.

Before I huff and puff over Obama’s mentor, however, I must remember that he’s a preacher, and that’s what (as another friend wisely pointed out) preachers do. Have I ever mentioned my preacher? He’s a gay man who teaches the bible from a homosexual perspective. I’ve been going to his church for 20 years, had my gay marriage performed there, and my two adopted children baptized by him. My priest believes that the only way for gays to get ahead is to rise up against the heterosexual men and women who’ve enslaved us. He believes that every Right Wing spokesperson should be infected with the AIDS virus, and their families, and their congregations. All of them should be denied family-visitation rights as they suffer their prolongued deaths. He preaches in his sermons that States without Hate Crimes bills should be dealt with by roaming the streets and swinging bats at passersby, and that the citizens of Wyoming should be tortured and tied up to a fence in order to feel our pain.

When I run for president as the first Homosexual American, I don’t expect anyone to hold my association with him against me, as I don’t agree with everything he says, and besides, he’s like an uncle to me. It’s not important which of his positions I’m against, it’s only important that he helped me find my sodomy-loving savior Jesus Christ. Remember, when the time is right - and it will be soon - anything negative you say about a Gay American will, and should, be used against your bigoted self.

Tootsie, of course, tells the story of a man who has to pretend he’s someone else to get a job. He succeeds, loses himself in the process, but becomes a better person after stepping into someone else’s shoes. Both Hillary and Barack have at times pretended to be people they’re not, and we’re the worse for it. As politicians, neither one can afford to get caught tipping anyone over. They also can’t be in each other’s shoes. The rest of us can’t be in each other’s shoes either; we can only appreciate and respect and love our neighbors. Since we live by the sword of our leaders, we need to examine both blades so we don’t get stabbed in the hands. When the stakes are as high as the presidency, stand by your convictions and Tip the Mime with no regrets.

www.davidtoussaint.com