The allegation that St. Al Gore is a horn-dog must be judged unsubstantiated at this point.
But it also appears to be unremarkable. No one at this stage is surprised that the tortured Mr. Gore, addicted to public acclaim to medicate his feelings of failure in relation to his late father, might also be addicted to panky of the hanky variety.
Like a vuvuzela, we again sound a single note on stories of this kind:
Because Gore is a Democrat, no one is especially disturbed by stories of sexcapades. If he were a Republican, he'd be in the stocks in the public square, pelted with overripe cabbages.
This is as it should be. Rs at least claim to have standards and so should be held to them. Ds are proud to be unburdened by such.
Left tarnished in such affairs is the Democratic Party's insistence that it is the advocate for the rights and needs of women, though at this stage the only people who can be blamed for the ongoing existence of such a claim are partisan feminists so marginalized in the body politic as to be beneath negligible. Since an unsolicited tongue-kiss is no impediment to a politician's delivering favors to clients, such distasteful behavior is greeted with profound apathy by those inclined to support Andrew Jackson's patronage machine.