It's gonna be an old-school, kick-ass throwdown. To determine how these paragon pols would handle the job, consider their prodigious achievements:
Rolle:
As chief executive of the James E. Scott Community Association (JESCA), he developed Roving Leaders, a school for inner-city youths. Cool. Unfortunately the place is rated D — almost the worst grade possible. And most students just don't show up.
Rolle earns $55,000 a year in perks as a county commissioner and an annual $167,528 as president and chief executive of the storied JESCA. He's rich. Cool again. Unfortunately he's a crummy financial manager. In 2004 JESCA overdrew its bank accounts by $339,299.
Oh yeah. Back in 2002 he nudged Miami-Dade Police to provide security at a JESCA-sponsored reggae concert. Way cool, mon. But he had to pay a $750 fine for abusing his elected position.
Brutus:
In 1998 he scrapped with longtime political rival Joe Celestin over who was a better soccer player. Witnesses claim one kicked the other. Five years later, though, Brutus killed language in a state bill to rename a portion of NW 125th Street after Celestin. That's so ghetto.
He has the guts to serve in Tallahassee with his ex-wife, state Rep. Yolly Roberson. We love a guy who can put up with his ex. But then there's the small matter of child support for their fourteen-year-old daughter. Yolly says big Phil owes $28,000. How do you say deadbeat in Kreyol?
In past elections, he has raised beaucoup d'argent — big campaign bucks. But in 2000 he racked up $3553 in fines from the Florida Elections Commission for late filing of campaign reports. Can any damn candidate in this district balance a checkbook?
So with the utmost seriousness, and having accepted huge bribes from both candidates, New Times recommends ... absolutely nobody. On September 5, you're better off staying home.
