CIA leak source found dripping out from Dick's Chief of Staff

In a demonstration of Republican manliness, values, and speedy post-Hurricane disaster relief, the source of the CIA leak that exposed the name of an intelligence agent has only taken 85 days to release Times reporter Judith Miller from her obligation to protect his identity:

Freed after 85 days in a federal detention center, Miller arrived at about 8:30 a.m. at the federal courthouse to testify for Special Counsel Patrick Fitzgerald's investigation about her conversations in July 2003 with Vice President Dick Cheney's chief of staff, I. Lewis "Scooter" Libby. Miller said in a statement that her source -- identified by the Times as Libby -- had released her from her promise of confidentially... "My source has now voluntarily and personally released me from my promise of confidentiality regarding our conversations relating to the Wilson-Plame matter," Miller said in a statement Thursday. Her newspaper identified Libby as the source, saying that Miller and Libby spoke in person on July 8, 2003, then talked by phone later that week. (AP - John Solomon, 9/30/05)

When asked how he felt about being responsible for Miller's imprisonment, "Scooter" Libby replied: "Get the f--- out of the country club and don't let the gold-plated gates hit your ass on the way out. Garcon, get me another steamed towel! And more shrimp cocktail, G--damn it!"

As this reporter left the premises under the protection of the Secret Service, one could faintly hear Mr. Libby cry out: "Oh, the humanity!"

I don't think God is home...

If President Bush is the defender of Christian America and our political representative to the Kingdom of Heaven, why does God still punish us? For example:

Why is God ignoring the prayers of Americans for the war in Iraq to turn for the better and allowing Allah to win?

Why did God permit two massive hurricanes to pummel and destroy the homes and lives of predominately Christian southern states?

Why do Republican leaders like Congressman Tom Delay and Senator Bill Frist, men who wear their piety and Christian beliefs on their sleeves, now smell of common criminals being investigated for ethics violations?

If these are the consequences of a Christian America, we might be better off praying to another God. It can't get any worse, can it? Perhaps if I rub my little Buddha statue...

Sci-fi and fantasy deserve own Emmy category, so say we all!

I watched the Emmy show last Sunday with some boredom because:
1. Ellen Degeneres was boring
2. The shows that won were boring (except for The Daily Show)
3. My favorite sci-fi show, Battlestar Galactica, wasn't nominated for anything.

Then I said to my wife: "If reality t.v. shows can get their own categories, why not sci-fi and fantasy shows?" She said "why not?" and then ignored me the rest of the evening. That's how I think creators like Joss Whedon must feel, uncared for, that is, by Emmy Nation.

There are separate acting categories for Drama and Comedy, but imagine all the hours of sci-fi and fantasy being ignored. And is reality t.v. actually more aethetically valuable than sci-fi and fantasy? Why do cable and network executives insist on showcasing skanks like Omarosa and all the Survivor losers and MTV sweet sixteen snobs when fine actors like Edward James Olmos deserve recognition? And does Doris Roberts really need to win every time she is nominated? How hard is it to play Ray Barone's mother, for goodness sake?

To be honest, though, I shudder at the thought that if a category were created for my favorite genre, Stargate SG-1 or Charmed might actually beat out Battlestar Galactica! Wouldn't that be sad?

Irony collides with Established Anti-Establishment Rock Club: Sense of humor mortally wounded

For fans of rock and CBGB, the idea of losing the club as a result of an eviction over disputed back rent is agonizing enough. The irony is that the landlord is a non-profit agency that helps the homeless, the mentally ill and substance abusers:

Seven days after its lease expired, the legendary punk venue CBGB's received an eviction notice from its landlord - a move the club's owner predicted Thursday would move the bitter fight over the Manhattan club's future into the courtroom. "This was expected,'' said CBGB's owner Hilly Kristal. "We were hoping it would come. Now it becomes a court battle.'' The eviction notice was served Wednesday evening to the club at 315 Bowery. The building landlord, the non-profit homeless advocacy group the Bowery Resident's Committee, reiterated its call for CBGB's to "vacate the premises both voluntarily and expeditiously.'' BRC executive director Muzzy Rosenblatt confirmed the eviction notice was served, but declined further comment.Just hours before the lease expired at midnight on Aug. 31, the BRC announced it would not renew the club's lease after a five-year fight over the monthly $19,000 rent. The bearded Kristal, who opened the club in December 1973, was unrattled by the latest notice. "My lawyer is going to court, and that's basically where it is now,'' said Kristal. "My take, and I hope the people in power agree, is that we should stay right here at 315 Bowery.'' The BRC, which holds a 45-year lease on the building, houses 250 homeless people above the club. CBGB is its lone commercial tenant.


As a matter of fair disclosure, I have to admit that I have had years of dealings with BRC's case managers and social workers, taking in their homeless folks. Almost all of the clients I've worked with from BRC have been very sweet people. I've had no dealings with their Executive Officers, so I don't if they're buttheads or what... But this whole battle between a musical establishment and homeless advocacy organization is so tragic and absurd: CBGB can't really wage a public battle against a homeless group without looking ridiculous. After all, it's not like BRC is City Hall or The Man. On the other hand, BRC can't risk antagonizing drunken, spirited punk fans from destroying them with their steel-capped boots.

I'm going to say that through the power of public relations and good will, they will come to some sort of compromise. If not, stay out of the hooligans' way...

Republican threatens to go medieval on FEMA Director's butt

I don't foresee a happy ending to FEMA Director Michael Brown's career:
U.S. Sen. Trent Lott , a Republican from Mississippi who lost his coastal home in the storm, said Director Michael Brown's job is in jeopardy. "If he doesn't solve a couple of problems that we've got right now he ain't going to be able to hold the job, because what I'm going to do to him ain't going to be pretty," Lott said on CBS. (Reuters, Egan/Simao - 9/6/05)

Louisiana's largest newspaper also called for others in the administration to commit hari-kari:
Every official at the Federal Emergency Management Agency should be fired, Director Michael Brown especially. In a nationally televised interview Thursday night, he said his agency hadn’t known until that day that thousands of storm victims were stranded at the Ernest N. Morial Convention Center. He gave another nationally televised interview the next morning and said, "We’ve provided food to the people at the Convention Center so that they’ve gotten at least one, if not two meals, every single day." Lies don’t get more bald-faced than that, Mr. President. Yet, when you met with Mr. Brown Friday morning, you told him, "You’re doing a heck of a job." That’s unbelievable. (Times-Picayune, open letter, 9/6/05)

It should be noted that the New Orleans Times-Picayune did not endorse Pres. Bush or Sen. Kerry during the 2004 elections although it had done so for the former during the 2000 campaign.

Katrina, Bush and New Orleans: America's Third World Crisis

One of the saddest things I've ever witnessed is to see my wife cry while watching the televised reports of the disaster worsening in New Orleans. It sickens me more than the bodies floating along the river, the looting, the dying among the sick and very young, and the total abandonment of the refugees at the Superdome because Americans should not have to watch helplessly while other Americans die. We watch with frustration and terrible pity as people cry out for salvation, as anger provoke a mob into a desperate search for food, escape, and vengeance. Why is this happening in America?

I have so many questions:

* If network reporters were able to station themselves in New Orleans prior to the storm, why couldn't FEMA and the military have done the same in preparation for the worst?
* FEMA Director Michael Brown told NBC Today this morning that they had not considered looting as a possible consequence of the flood. How could a highly trained disaster specialist not predict one of the basest of human emotions, desperation, during a time of anarchy?
* The FEMA Director also stated that they had poor communications on the ground to determine where the crises were occuring, such as the Convention Center. Couldn't he have just turned on the TV to CNN?
* Pres. Bush yesterday claimed that experts had not considered the levees to fail. And yet experts had been predicting for years that a Hurricane of Katrina's magnitutde would overwhelm them.
* As of Friday morning, why have the entire resources of the military not arrived at New Orleans? Don't we have a navy, air force, and army? Don't we have Marines who respond to crises around the world in a shorter amount of time?
* Why is Pres. Bush allowing thousands of Black Americans to die so horribly? Why is he so slow to react? I thought America was the most advanced civilization, the most honorable people, the most caring Republicans in the world? Why are we watching our most vulnerable people perish?
* And why has Fox News not said one critical word about the federal response to the disaster? All the other networks have asked why the world's most powerful man has not come to New Orlean's rescue. Not Fox News. They broadly praise the number of shelters helping the refugees. The quick Senate passing of a bill to help the relief effort. But not a single, critical word of Pres. Bush's ineffectiveness during the past four days to help the dying.

I don't have any answers. I'm not smart enough to have any. All I am is one person watching Americans fade into the chaos and hell that was once New Orleans.

Law & Order: Tales of the NYPD Property Clerk

Around late February 2005, I was walking to work along the snow-shoveled sidewalks when I noticed something red on the ground. I picked it up and discovered that it was a leather change wallet. Thoughts of Gollum and the One Ring made me cautious of examining the contents, but I unzipped the wallet and found sixty dollars, a penny, a credit card, bank card and a receipt from a nearby grocery store ATM machine. My first thoughts were to pocket the money and toss aside the remaining articles, but I made a saving throw against Evil Temptation and was spared future restless nights of guilt and psychic torment.

So I went to work and called a friend, Maria, and asked her if I should just turn it over to the cops or try to find the owner and hand it back to her. Maria recommened that I do the latter. I decided to do the former, if only because I didn't want to be accused by some unfamiliar crazy woman of robbing her. However, I did Google her name and saw that she only lived a few blocks from me. I also jotted down her phone number.

I kept the wallet the rest of the day. Like Frodo, I felt a terrible burden. Though it was only $60.01, I still needed several saving throws to avoid the fate that befell the Ring Wraiths. I went home, told my wife what I'd found, and called the woman to tell her I would be bringing the wallet to the local precinct. I got hold of her machine, so I left a message. I gave only my first name and did not leave my own number.

I walked to the precinct and waited until one of the desk officers lifted her eyes to acknowledge me. I told her the story and presented the booty. She seemed surprised. "We don't normally find wallets with money in it."

"I can believe that. Hey, here's the address of the woman. I looked up her information on the internet."

She thanked me and handed me a receipt.

Months passed. I often thought about what might have happened with the wallet. I also wondered why I was such a boy scout. In this crazy world of terrorism, Apprentice-show cutthroat competition and religious hypocrisy, were my values sadly based on The Little Rascals and Aruthurian fantasies? Should I not have kept the money and bought grocery with it?

Then last weekend, I recieved a letter from the NYPD Property Clerk informing me that they had something that belonged to me. At first, I thought it was the heroin that I had turned in some 20 months ago from a former cleint of mine. I was somewhat concerned that this might be a trap. But I called the Clerk and the officer explained that it was indeed about the found currency. She also asked if I knew a "Jennifer Tully." I said no. She said that the wallet had belonged to her but efforts to contact her were not successful. Somehow, that made me feel just a little less safer living in the big city. If they could not find her with the information I had given, how could they locate terrorists living in our midst? But that is another tale to explore... Anyway, the officer told me I was entitled to the money.

So on Monday, I went to the Property Clerk. They buzzed me in. I showed my I.D. but was told that the officer responsible for cutting a check for me was out to lunch. I said I'd be back soon. Thoughts of ramming a truck into the office filtered into my mind... then I noticed the other customers lining up behind me. Dressed in wife-beaters, crooked baseball caps and expensive sneakers, they appeared to me the sort of characters that might have found their way into the city's jails and were here to retrieve their own possessions upon being released. Some of them cursed under their breaths when told they would have to come back later.

Prefering not to learn anymore about them, I left to have lunch and came back. The same folks were ahead of me, milling about the locked office. One of them became frustrated and mentioned to no one in particular that he needed to "take a leak, man." I saw him walk in the direction of some parked police cars. A few minutes later, the Clerk started letting people in. I quickly gave my name again and a moment later, he presented me with a check. Woohoo!

After taking into account the lunch I had, which was a pizza, soda and a bottle of water, I came out about $57.01 ahead. I deposited the money and relished in the thought that the honor system had worked out in my favor for once. But what, you might ask, will I spend the money on? Unfortunately, I had received a $115 parking ticket some three weeks ago owing to my own error in not spotting a ten foot "No parking except for DOT permit" sign in a public lot... so the money is already spent. In this 15-degree tilted world, the best I could achieve was to owe the city less money. Oh well. I guess that's not so bad a deal...