There's a saying among old-school political hacks that, "Only Nixon could go to China." It's a reference, of course, to how reputations often shape public perception more than actions, allowing some politicians to get away with things others never could.

It's an insidiously effective tactic, too. Today, thanks largely to Nixon's efforts in 1972, China's holding more dollars than Larry Craig at the Boise Man Hole Club, and we're all eagerly awaiting the Christmas release of Mattel's new Barbie Asbestos Dream House.

But the lesson the GOP learned back in the early '70s was certainly not about how constructive engagement might be a better strategy than knee-jerk Cold War saber-rattling; it was about distorting public perception through robust rhetoric that obscures one's true nature. Fast forward to 2007 and candidate Rudy Giuliani's oddly blasé reaction to the recent revelation that he was not just storing his love mutton in inappropriate places during his tenure as America's Mayor, but may have been doing so on the public dime.

Of course, for years Republicans and conservatives had relied on the perception of the Democrats as the party of libertine values to strengthen their own "family-friendly" bona fides. Then the dam burst, the GOP big-tent policy quickly became the GOP pants-tent policy, and venerable mainstream broadsheets like the New York Times suddenly became indistinguishable from the Commentary section of Barely Legal.

Truth is, while researching our latest book, The Brotherhood of the Disappearing Pants: A Field Guide to Conservative Sex Scandals, it seemed to us, in our wide-eyed Midwestern naivete, that Rudy's salacious past might actually make him unelectable.

It's not that Rudy was divorced. Twice. (Once from his second cousin.) Divorced Republicans--particularly Republican politicians--are certainly no rare breed. They've got money. They've got power. They've got eager young assistants who have not yet realized that, right about the time that dashing older gentleman they're bedding is ready to commit, he's going to look like one of Ed Gein's lamps and have a prostate the size of Tim Russert's head. No, it was the lurid details that we thought were sure to be off-putting to potential voters.

Not only was Rudy openly seeing his current wife, Judith Nathan, while still married to his second wife, Donna Hanover, but his announcement at a press conference that he was separating from Hanover reportedly took her by surprise. Also, at one point, during their marriage, Hanover refused to say if she would vote for her husband for mayor, prompting Rudy's lawyer to respond, "What kind of wife is that?"

His relationship with the rest of his family was also apparently strained. Rudy's son Andrew, best known as the kid who came moments away from getting tranqued by NYPD snipers during the mayor's inauguration speech several years back, told the New York Times in March that he would not campaign with his father, preferring to concentrate on his goal of becoming a professional golfer.

Then again, when it comes right down to it, Giuliani is actually something of a standard-bearer for GOP sexual ethics and family values.

Indeed, our book is stocked with more than 230 pages of conservative gross-outs stretching back decades, most of which make Giuliani's peccadilloes look downright quaint. Unfortunately, these scandals tend to come faster than Mark Foley at a spring line launch party for Underoos--and thus we've been forced to furiously post updates at the book's companion Web site, Conservativesexscandals.com.

But if Rudy's recent slip in the polls is any indication, voters might finally be realizing that, just because your party tries to make it look like it's above reproach, doesn't mean you're not sitting in a bathtub full of Mazola Corn Oil next to a rack of leather riding crops with the holiday issue of Torso at the ready. Of course, we've often been asked why, with a full chamber of political scoundrels to choose from, we've limited our criticism to the right side of the aisle.

Well, because Democratic scandals are kind of a snooze, aren't they? Did anyone really think Bill Clinton was going to keep it in his pants for eight years? If he'd shown up for his first State of the Union address in a red velvet robe and slippers, would anyone have even blinked?

No, those magic ingredients that make Republicans such artful dodgers and Democrats so dull by comparison are abundant hypocrisy and insufferable sanctimony.
Here's the difference:

1) Senator/Congressman/Governor (insert Democratic elected official) admits he's gay, acknowledges this has always been so, writes an annoyingly earnest book, and lands himself a guest spot on Oprah.

2) Senator/Congressman/Governor (insert Republican elected official, and make sure he buys you dinner first) shows up with a male prostitute at a seedy Vegas motel wearing a Little Dutch Boy outfit and carrying a steam trunk full of dildos and Portuguese horse tranquilizers--then, when later confronted by the media, insists he's not gay and that the six kilos of Mexican black tar heroin he purchased were not intended for personal use.

But for some reason many Republican politicians have still not figured it out. Their frequent pro-family posturing does not protect them when stuff like this happens, it only makes them look worse--and for his part, Rudy would be well advised to wipe that smug smirk off his face.

But can you really blame him? After all, this kind of sly sexual hubris has been widespread in conservative circles for years--from the caravans of hookers who show up for every Republican National Convention to Fox News, which might as well just go ahead and buy Victoria's Secret at this point as part of a vertical integration strategy.

Indeed, as we all learned during Bill Clinton's 12-month national time-out for playing with the neighbor girl's wee-wee, there were plenty of GOP bounders--many of whom were part of the House mob that would ultimately impeach him--who were slipping the holy spirit to someone other than their wives.

Even Newt Gingrich, who never missed a chance to scold the president or the Democrats on ethical grounds, was later revealed to be shtupping a woman not his wife. And as moral firebrand Bob Barr was acting as a House prosecutor in the Clinton impeachment, gadfly pornographer Larry Flynt produced an unflattering affidavit from the congressman's second wife. (It would be unseemly to go into all the details, but suffice to say the allegations had something to do with either an abortion or Rip Taylor's Guatemalan houseboy and a case of almond butter.)

But if you're still not convinced that the GOP's moral poses spring largely from black, bloodless, cynical hearts, we'd like to present another sort of question: Who would you rather party with: Larry Craig, Mark Foley, Bill O'Reilly, and Rudy Giuliani--or Bill Clinton?

We think our point is made.