Deja vu

As I sit here on a sweltering July day, listening to Sean Hannity run through all the Republican talking points over and over again — no crime was committed, she wasn’t even a covert op, Joe Wilson is the real villain here, blah blah blah — I am transported back in time a few years. It is the summer of 1997 and I have just moved to New York City, and I am sitting in the ludicrously large loft studio I have rented as a workspace. (An illegal space with no bathroom, hence the cheap rent. The tenants from whom I sublet would eventually decide they wanted the space back, and kick me out without much notice, forcing me to scramble for a new studio space while I was (a) working with Saturday Night Live, trying to get some stuff on the air, and (b) planning for my wedding. But this would turn out to be a small blessing — the building was just a few blocks north of the World Trade Center, and had I still been working there in the fall of 2001, I would most likely have been shut out of my studio and unable to work for a month or two.)

At any rate, this is when I first become aware of Hannity as a radio personality, listening to him on WABC that summer in my sweltering loft space. The big story of the summer concerns several New York City police officers, including Justin Volpe, who are accused of sodomizing a Haitian immigrant named Abner Louima with a broom handle, and day after day, Hannity defends Volpe and attacks Louima — regularly referring to the latter as “Lyin’ Louima.”

Except as it turns out, Lyin’ Louima is telling the truth and Justin Volpe and the others go to jail.

And Sean Hannity drops the topic like a burning hot potato.

So whenever I hear him ranting on like this, trying to restructure his audience’s perception of reality so that the obviously guilty party is pure as the driven snow, and the obvious victim actually dirty as sin, I think back to the days of Lyin’ Louima, and wonder — why does anyone listen to this moron? Is there anything any of these guys can get so wrong that their audience will even notice?

Defending Karl

Since the White House’s efforts to spin their way out of the fact that they’re harboring a traitor have been a huge failure, here are a few suggestions for ways Republicans who don’t really care about national security can defend Karl Rove :

The Polyamory Defense

In an email to Time’s Matt Cooper, Karl Rove mentioned “Wilson’s wife” works for the CIA, but everybody just jumped to the conclusion that Wilson is only married to one woman. While the investigation is ongoing, it’s too early to tell whether Wilson was or wasn’t a bigamist. Until Fitzgerald has completed his inquiry, the question isn’t whether or not Rove revealed Valerie Plame’s CIA status (which is obviously wrong), but which one of Wilson’s wives was Rove referring to?

The Unwritten Rule Defense

What people outside of Washington don’t understand is that it’s common for government insiders to reveal top secret information to reporters with the understanding that the information in question will never, ever find its way into print. What’s truly unusual in this instance was the snitching of that rat bastard Matt Cooper. Everyone who’s worked in the Capitol for a while has received a few phone calls which anyone with an understanding of journalistic ethics knows you’re not supposed to talk about. Just ask any Washington insider about Bill Clinton’s late night phone calls to tell people what’s really in Area 51 or Bush Sr.’s chats with reporters about hiding out on the grassy knoll waiting for Kennedy’s motorcade. This isn’t a big deal.

The “Librul Commie” Defense

When Valerie “Wilson” gave $1000 to Al Gore in 2000, it compromised her the CIA dummy corporation she used as a front, Brewster-Jennings & Associates. But if one of our CIA covert operatives is aiding and abetting that nerd who thinks he invented the internets, where do her allegiances really stand? That alone is enough to suggest she may have been a double agent working for the Reds.

The “He Was Helping Her” Defense

It’s funny how much these silly little “bloggers” think they know about how the CIA works. At a certain point, an operative’s cover becomes so deep that it wraps around like a Moebius strip. At that level of cover, CIA operations require the outing of an agent as an exercise in black ops reverse reverse psychology. Rove, showing a clear understanding of CIA procedures, outed Plame in order to help her. If you want to know how the CIA really works, you’ve got to read one of the more informative manuals like “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind”.

The 16 Words Defense

Karl Rove was trying to ensure that Joseph Wilson’s lies didn’t hurt our national security. Yes, Joseph Wilson went to Niger and determined that the documents regarding uranium shipments to Iraq were forgeries, but the President explicitly said “uranium from Africa“, not just Niger. Has Wilson looked into uranium shipments out of Lesotho, Burkina Faso, or Djibouti?? I didn’t think so…

Chickenhawk smackdown

From E&P (via Empire Burlesque):

…Mark Yost, writing from the air-conditoned splendor of his office or home in leafy Minnesota:

“I know the reporting’s bad because I know people in Iraq,” he revealed. “A Marine colonel buddy just finished a stint overseeing the power grid. When’s the last time you read a story about the progress being made on the power grid? Or the new desalination plant that just came on-line, or the school that just opened, or the Iraqi policeman who died doing something heroic? No, to judge by the dispatches, all the Iraqis do is stand outside markets and government buildings waiting to be blown up.

“I also get unfiltered news from Iraq through an e-mail network of military friends who aren’t so blinded by their own politics that they can’t see the real good we’re doing there. …Why isn’t the focus of the story the fact that 14 of 18 Iraqi provinces are stable and the four that aren’t are primarily home to the genocidal gang of thugs who terrorized that country for 30 years? And reporters wonder why they’re despised.”

* * *

From (Knight Ridder Washington chief) Clark Hoyt:

It’s astonishing that Mark Yost, from the distance and safety of St. Paul, Minnesota, presumes to know what’s going on in Iraq. He knows the reporting of hundreds of brave journalists, presumably including his own Knight Ridder colleagues Hannah Allam and Tom Lassetter, is bad because his Marine colonel buddy tells him so.

Yost asks why you don’t read about progress being made in the power grid, which the colonel oversaw. Maybe it’s because there is no progress. Iraqis currently have electricity for an average of nine hours a day. A year ago, they averaged 10 hours of electricity. Iraq’s oil production is still below pre-war levels. The unemployment rate is between 30 and 40 percent. New cases of hepatitis have doubled over the rate of 2002, largely because of problems with getting clean drinking water and disposing of sewage.

The “unfiltered news” Yost gets from his military friends is in fact filtered by their isolation in the Green Zone and on American military bases from the Iraqi population, an isolation made necessary by the ferocity of the insurgency. To say that isn’t to argue that their perspective is invalid. It’s just limited and incomplete.

Knight Ridder’s Baghdad bureau chief, Hannah Allam, has read Mark Yost’s column. Her response, from the front, says it far better than I could.

* * *

From Hannah Allam:

It saddens me to read Mark Yost’s editorial in the Pioneer Press, the Knight Ridder paper that hired me as a rookie reporter and taught me valuable lessons in life and journalism during the four years I spent there before heading to Iraq.

I invite Mr. Yost to spend a week in our Baghdad bureau, where he can see our Iraqi staff members’ toothbrushes lined up in the bathroom because they have no running water at home. I frequently find them camping out in the office overnight because electricity is still only sporadic in their sweltering neighborhoods, despite what I’m sure are the best-intentioned efforts of people like his Marine buddy working on the electrical grid.

Mr. Yost could have come with me today as I visited one of my own military buddies, who like most officers doesn’t leave the protected Green Zone compound except by helicopter or massive convoy. The Army official picked me up in his air-conditioned Explorer, took me to Burger King for lunch and showed me photos of the family he misses so terribly. The official is a great guy, and like so many other soldiers, it’s not politics that blind him from seeing the real Iraq. The compound’s maze of tall blast wall and miles of concertina wire obscure the view, too.

Mr. Yost can listen to our bureau’s morning planning meetings, where we orchestrate a trip to buy bottled water (the tap water is contaminated, when it works) as if we’re plotting a military operation. I wonder whether he prefers riding in the first car — the most exposed to shrapnel and bullets — or the chase car, which is designed to act as a buffer between us and potential kidnappers.

Perhaps Mr. Yost would be moved by our office’s tribute wall to Yasser Salihee, our brave and wonderful colleague, who at age 30 joined the ranks of Iraqi civilians shot to death by American soldiers. Mr. Yost would have appreciated one of Yasser’s last stories — a rare good-news piece about humanitarian aid reaching the holy city of Najaf.

Mr. Yost’s contention that 14 of Iraq’s 18 provinces are stable is pure fantasy. On his visit to Baghdhad, he can check that by chatting with our resident British security consultant, who every day receives a province-by-province breakdown of the roadside bombs, ambushes, assassinations and other violence throughout the country.

If Baghdad is too far for Mr. Yost to travel (and I don’t blame him, given the treacherous airport road to reach our fortress-like hotel), why not just head to Oklahoma? There, he can meet my former Iraqi translator, Ban Adil, and her young son. They’re rebuilding their lives under political asylum after insurgents in Baghdad followed Ban’s family home one night and gunned down her 4-year-old daughter, her husband and her elderly mother in law.

Freshly painted schools and a new desalination plant might add up to “mission accomplished” for some people. Too bad Ban’s daughter never got to enjoy those fruits of her liberation.

Stuff

The piece I did for the Voice on the upcoming Supreme Court battle is online here.

In other news: I was admittedly skeptical of the Huffington Post when it first went online, but you know, it kind of grew on me. And as it turns out, I’ve been invited to pitch my two cents in from time to time. Which means it’s all getting a bit promiscuous: while I may occasionally cross-post on that site, several writers are cross-posting on mine, and a least a couple of them have guest bloggers of their own. And I’m all for it. As far as this site is concerned, the experiment in group-blogging has been more successful than I would have ever imagined, and I’m grateful to each of the experimentees: Billmon, Greg, Jeanne, Bob, and of course the blogless but nevertheless entertaining Jack Hitt. With the obvious exception of the latter, you should visit them at home — they’ve usually got stuff there that they don’t put up here.

Finally, go pay skippy a visit — he’s on the final push to hit the million visitor mark, and You Can Help.