About this Valerie Plame case and the media's frantic turnaround. Let's start from the beginning.
In February 2002, Joseph Wilson, a diplomat for almost three decades, was sent by the CIA to Niger to investigate European intelligence (mainly from British and Italian agencies) that Saddam was attempting to buy yellowcake to use in his nuclear weapons programs. Wilson concluded that the documents were probably forged and since the mining of yellowcake was monitored by the UN, the claim was unlikely.
Britain issued a white paper, after the Wilson trip, about the yellowcake purchase attempt, which is intelligence that has been confirmed to outline a specific course of action. The British government later established an independent commission to investigate the claim and other intelligence claims about Iraq, and the report, the Butler Report, found it to be fact that Saddam sought to purchase the lethal material.
Then President Bush mentioned it in his 2003 State of the Union Address as one of many arguments that Saddam's Iraq was an imminent threat. He inserted the caveat that it was intelligence gleaned from the British government (though at that point the white paper and the Butler Report hadn't existed -- as far as I can tell). Five months later, Joe Wilson became a blind subject of a column alleging intelligence failures regarding the case against Iraq. Then Wilson went public in an op-ed in the NYT outlining his argument. Three days later two administration officials contacts five or six journalists and mentioned, among other things, that Wilson's wife is Valerie Plame at the CIA and that she suggested him for the Niger assignment and that the whole thing was politically motivated.
Robert Novak of our very own Chicago Sun-Times was the only reporter who took the bait. He printed a column in early July 2003 naming Plame as a CIA "operative." A scandal erupted.
Primarily the Democrats, though not exclusively, and the press began to cry foul because Plame was an undercover agent in the CIA and naming her violated the Intelligence Identities Protection Act, a federal crime with severe punishments. They claimed, as did Wilson, that it was a deliberate attempt to endanger his wife's career and by implication her life in order to get back at Wilson for speaking out against the administration.
The liberal press went ballistic. In principle, partisanship aside, everyone should have gone ballistic, but absent of an investigation and armed only with hearsay, it was the liberals who were shouting the loudest. Democrats and the liberal media (like the NYT editorial board) were rabidly demanding an independent prosecutor to investigate the charge and to hold the leakers responsible. It was understood among these people and organizations that a crime had been committed and justice must prevail.
Finally Bush acquiesced and ordered Ashcroft to investigate. Ashcroft removed himself from the investigation to eliminate conflict of interest charges, and his deputy appointed Chicago's own U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald to investigate. Those calling for the investigation were overjoyed because Fitzgerald was generally seen as a phenomenal U.S. attorney above party politics.
As the investigation went on and stalled at every turn in uncovering the administration officials who leaked Plame's name, Fitzgerald turned to the reporters. It seems logical that Novak was subpeanoed, but he cannot discuss the matter since it is before a grand jury. Instead two other reporters, Matt Cooper of Time and Judith Miller of the NYT, were called in and refused to reveal their sources. Cooper wrote a follow-up to Novak's piece and Miller did a little investigating but ultimately did not write one word about this issue. They were threatened with jail unless they complied by naming their sources.
It was at this point that the press that so demanded the investigation began complaining about it. They now say that no crime was committed in the first place and the government is threatening the livelihoods of all journalists everywhere. They are demonizing Fitzgerald, whom they roundly supported at first. How odd. The underlying principle here is that reporters have 1st amendment rights but that those rights do not exist when they are directly related to a crime. Essentially, reporters cannot keep secret the names of those who commit crimes. They cannot, if you will, obstruct justice. Just like the rest of us.
So the media is saying now that no crime was committed and so therefore the reporters don't have to name names because the sources aren't criminals. See how that works? There is nothing out there today that is more hypocritical.
Now, I have no idea why Novak seems to escape any kind of scrutiny here. It seems to me that if any reporters are leaned on, he should be at the top of the list. It seems, however, that according to his few public statements, he must have struck some kind of deal or agreement with the investigation. He won't discuss it until this is "over," whenever that is.
So Time, Inc. yesterday agreed to comply with the Supreme Court's decision to uphold the lower court's ruling that the reporters must name names. The New York Times refused, which some say is easy since the NYT is not being charged a fine of $1,000 a day until they comply like Time, Inc. is. Still, though, despite the sources being exposed soon, it seems that Miller might still go to jail. This is something I do not understand. If the investigation is over, why must she be punished? Her refusal now becomes moot, doesn't it?
Thankfully, it now seems that this case is coming to a close and it can finally be decided if A) a crime was committed and B) if it was those responsible will be brought to justice. The sources apparently had to have security clearance to obtain her identity so rumors point to Karl Rove as one of the leakers. I hope we'll soon find out the whole twisted truth.
In the meantime, I hope the media has learned another valuable lesson in its Decade of Lessons is in the middle of, which is that the media is not above the law and they should be more deliberative when putting forth demands. It is an awful day for the NYT when it has to double back on itself and change its opinion altogether.
Friday, July 01, 2005
CHANGE IS GOOD... RIGHT?
My boss, Craig, told me this morning that he's quitting. He is the director of sales for the midwest, and his announcement shrunk our little office from three people to two.
Of my two coworkers, Craig and Marilee (the new business manager for the region), Craig was whom I preferred. Marilee is nice and funny and has her days, but Craig and I got along really well. We both went to U of I so we bonded early and often about that, plus he's very laid back and cool. He never got frustrated by me (to my face anyway) and my inability to fully grasp the insurance world immediately. There was one time when he was out when something awfully Murphy's Law-esque happened, but it was a mistake that I didn't know I was making. And it was more a comedy of errors than anything. On both of our parts.
The winds of change and evolution are swirling around me today and my refusal to plant any roots here myself finds me in the mood to leave as well. I am not going to do that, mainly because I have one more month until my company starts match funding my 401(k). And while I don't plan on being here longer than six more months -- or less -- I would like that little extra in my retirement account to take with me.
I'm normally reticent to change when it initially is decided or announced, but I am an adapter. Come Tuesday, after all of this has sunk in and the permutations of the effects have been thought of, I'll be excited to move on with the change. I'm a little apprehensive though that the new person, whomever they hire, will not be nearly as cool or funny or laid back as Craig. And I'm a little nervous that I have to put my own feet to the fire and re-pretend that I know what I'm doing around here. The good news is that there is a lot of help from all kinds of corners in the company, but I don't want to appear ineffective or incompetant when the new person comes and makes a first impression.
We'll see how this ball bounces....
Of my two coworkers, Craig and Marilee (the new business manager for the region), Craig was whom I preferred. Marilee is nice and funny and has her days, but Craig and I got along really well. We both went to U of I so we bonded early and often about that, plus he's very laid back and cool. He never got frustrated by me (to my face anyway) and my inability to fully grasp the insurance world immediately. There was one time when he was out when something awfully Murphy's Law-esque happened, but it was a mistake that I didn't know I was making. And it was more a comedy of errors than anything. On both of our parts.
The winds of change and evolution are swirling around me today and my refusal to plant any roots here myself finds me in the mood to leave as well. I am not going to do that, mainly because I have one more month until my company starts match funding my 401(k). And while I don't plan on being here longer than six more months -- or less -- I would like that little extra in my retirement account to take with me.
I'm normally reticent to change when it initially is decided or announced, but I am an adapter. Come Tuesday, after all of this has sunk in and the permutations of the effects have been thought of, I'll be excited to move on with the change. I'm a little apprehensive though that the new person, whomever they hire, will not be nearly as cool or funny or laid back as Craig. And I'm a little nervous that I have to put my own feet to the fire and re-pretend that I know what I'm doing around here. The good news is that there is a lot of help from all kinds of corners in the company, but I don't want to appear ineffective or incompetant when the new person comes and makes a first impression.
We'll see how this ball bounces....
Thursday, June 30, 2005
ANOTHER CHIT FOR EAST ST. LOUIS
As if East St. Louis weren't already a national joke, St. Clair County Democratic Committemen and the head of the county Democratic committee were convicted this week of voter fraud in the 2004 election. Frankly I'm surprised, because usually no one votes in ESL. If they did, they wouldn't be in the mess they're in would they?
The crux of the conviction is that the officials paid voters $5 each to vote for Democrats last November. In 1931 an East St. Louis vote cost only $2. Quite a long way they have come.
This is the place that couldn't afford garbage pickup for five years, so everyone threw their trash in the street.
The city once had almost 100,000 residents, but now has only 40,000 and remains the same size. The population is literally made up of grandparents and grandchildren. The middle-aged flee for somewhere better. There's no employment base.
The city lost a civil suit in 1994 and couldn't pay the plaintiff, so the judge ordered that payment be the deed to the city hall. Not until last year could the city afford to buy the deed back.
And this is the place that is represented by the imbecillic Wyvetter Younge. She is a seventy-year-old woman who is in the pocket of Michael Madigan. She wants to raze the city to the ground and rebuild it underneath a dome. And she wants to rename it "Old Man River City." She's had plans drawn up and has a scale model on her desk in Springfield. I notice that she's done nary a thing to improve the city as long as she's been in office, despite all the votes she's cast for anything Madigan wants.
Of course, all blame cannot be laid at the feet of the decades of Democrats who have had a stronghold on the elective offices from this city. We had Republican governors when ESL was at it's worst. I don't understand why there isn't a joint program between Illinios and Missouri to invest heavily in ESL and get her on her feet. It seems to me that St. Louis would appreciate getting rid of the current eyesore it has to look at every day. Just go to the top of the arch and see for yourself. It's ugly.
I can't imagine how things could possibly get any worse....
The crux of the conviction is that the officials paid voters $5 each to vote for Democrats last November. In 1931 an East St. Louis vote cost only $2. Quite a long way they have come.
This is the place that couldn't afford garbage pickup for five years, so everyone threw their trash in the street.
The city once had almost 100,000 residents, but now has only 40,000 and remains the same size. The population is literally made up of grandparents and grandchildren. The middle-aged flee for somewhere better. There's no employment base.
The city lost a civil suit in 1994 and couldn't pay the plaintiff, so the judge ordered that payment be the deed to the city hall. Not until last year could the city afford to buy the deed back.
And this is the place that is represented by the imbecillic Wyvetter Younge. She is a seventy-year-old woman who is in the pocket of Michael Madigan. She wants to raze the city to the ground and rebuild it underneath a dome. And she wants to rename it "Old Man River City." She's had plans drawn up and has a scale model on her desk in Springfield. I notice that she's done nary a thing to improve the city as long as she's been in office, despite all the votes she's cast for anything Madigan wants.
Of course, all blame cannot be laid at the feet of the decades of Democrats who have had a stronghold on the elective offices from this city. We had Republican governors when ESL was at it's worst. I don't understand why there isn't a joint program between Illinios and Missouri to invest heavily in ESL and get her on her feet. It seems to me that St. Louis would appreciate getting rid of the current eyesore it has to look at every day. Just go to the top of the arch and see for yourself. It's ugly.
I can't imagine how things could possibly get any worse....
PARADE OF WEIRDOS
Monday at lunchtime.
I went to Salad Spinners for lunch on Wabash and Monroe and as usual they were backed up for about twenty minutes. Great salads, but it takes for-fuckin-ever to get your order. While I was waiting, Jim Brockman passed me, but I didn't recognize him until ten minutes after I left. He had a goatee, but otherwise was the same. My order came up a minute or so after he walked past me, and I don't think he saw me; we didn't acknowledge each other. Just for those of you (most of you) who don't know Jim, let me give you some background information:
Jim and I had photography class together Junior year. He would routinely sneak up behind me in the dark hallway to the darkroom and attempt to strangle me with paper towels. Not a roll, but a wad. It was joke-strangling, but still.... After a few times, it kinda gave me a complex.
Jim also attempted to get me, Mary and Maffia to go to the Rocky Horror Picture Show for a full semester. You've all heard about those debaucherous screenings that are populated by crazies. That's the last place I want to go at midnight on a Saturday.
During a gym final one semester, Jim said that he wanted to create a sub-genre of the booming porn industry that would entirely consist of fat bald women "head-fucking" each other. And then he would demonstrate his vision in mime-like fashion.
He used to work at the LaGrange Theater and warned us never to eat the popcorn there. I forget why, but to this day I don't give it a second thought as I walk past the concession stand.
He's got one wicked sense of humor.
After I got back with my salad to my building, I got in the elevator and in came this woman with a huge bag of pork rinds. As we spent our short time together in the vertical shoebox, she would take handfuls of the rinds and stuff them in her mouth. She did this twice on my ride from floors one to two, and I can't imagine how quickly she demolished the whole bag.
Then about twenty minutes later, I was walking past the elevator bank when one of the lifts opened for someone to get out. The person left in the elevator was Mr. Edwards, a family friend of Mary's, whom I see occasionally (like at church on Ash Wednesday downtown) but rarely speak to. We made eye contact as I walked through the elevator bank and he gave me his customary "you're-a-spy-and-I'm-a-spy-but-no-one-can-know-we're-spies" covert head nod. It's almost like what Dr. Claw would do if we ever saw his face. He finished his head nod right as the elevator doors closed. That guy has great timing.
What a strange barrage of people for a Monday.
I went to Salad Spinners for lunch on Wabash and Monroe and as usual they were backed up for about twenty minutes. Great salads, but it takes for-fuckin-ever to get your order. While I was waiting, Jim Brockman passed me, but I didn't recognize him until ten minutes after I left. He had a goatee, but otherwise was the same. My order came up a minute or so after he walked past me, and I don't think he saw me; we didn't acknowledge each other. Just for those of you (most of you) who don't know Jim, let me give you some background information:
Jim and I had photography class together Junior year. He would routinely sneak up behind me in the dark hallway to the darkroom and attempt to strangle me with paper towels. Not a roll, but a wad. It was joke-strangling, but still.... After a few times, it kinda gave me a complex.
Jim also attempted to get me, Mary and Maffia to go to the Rocky Horror Picture Show for a full semester. You've all heard about those debaucherous screenings that are populated by crazies. That's the last place I want to go at midnight on a Saturday.
During a gym final one semester, Jim said that he wanted to create a sub-genre of the booming porn industry that would entirely consist of fat bald women "head-fucking" each other. And then he would demonstrate his vision in mime-like fashion.
He used to work at the LaGrange Theater and warned us never to eat the popcorn there. I forget why, but to this day I don't give it a second thought as I walk past the concession stand.
He's got one wicked sense of humor.
After I got back with my salad to my building, I got in the elevator and in came this woman with a huge bag of pork rinds. As we spent our short time together in the vertical shoebox, she would take handfuls of the rinds and stuff them in her mouth. She did this twice on my ride from floors one to two, and I can't imagine how quickly she demolished the whole bag.
Then about twenty minutes later, I was walking past the elevator bank when one of the lifts opened for someone to get out. The person left in the elevator was Mr. Edwards, a family friend of Mary's, whom I see occasionally (like at church on Ash Wednesday downtown) but rarely speak to. We made eye contact as I walked through the elevator bank and he gave me his customary "you're-a-spy-and-I'm-a-spy-but-no-one-can-know-we're-spies" covert head nod. It's almost like what Dr. Claw would do if we ever saw his face. He finished his head nod right as the elevator doors closed. That guy has great timing.
What a strange barrage of people for a Monday.
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