Thursday, July 22, 2004

As reported two days agao, not only did former Clintinonista Sandy Berger walked out of the National Archives with classified documents in his portfolio, briefcase and stuffed into the pockets of his pants and jacket, we know learn that he had his socks stuffed full of handwritten notes, presumably based on the documents he was reviewing or possibly stole.

We also learn that despite standard security procedures, Berger was continually left alone by the workers in the Archives to "make private telephone calls" and some such. Archive security procedures state that no one is ever to be left alone with any documents --- a security person must be present at all times.

What was he doing? What was he thinking? What the hell did he have to hide?

And yet, the word "inadvertant" keeps popping up. A favorite Clintonite word. To a Clintonite, "inadvertant" means you meant not to get caught, but you did. The ex-Clintonnites are coming out of the woodwork to defend litle Sammy and all have the same thing to say "I can't believe he actually meant to do something like that, it's must have been an accident. I had to be inadvertant."

Sandy Berger committed a crime. He stole valuable, historical documents that might have shed light either on his bosses falures or his own. He took steps to conceal his crime, stuffing documents in his clothing believing he would not get caught. He made phone calls (to whom, I wonder? Clinton? John Kerry? 9/11 commission members?), and the records of those calls must be made public. The only good news was that it was Archive security people who after allowing the idiot to be left alone with all this stuff, managed to find it on him before he left. For once, a government worker may have done his/her job properly.


Tuesday, July 20, 2004

Sixteen Words vs. Missing Documents...
It has been revealed today that Sandy Berger, former National Security advisor to "Commander in Briefs" Bill Kintoon, is under investigation for allegedly stealing documents from the National Archive that should have been given to the 9/11 Commission. One can only make assumptions about what might have been in those documents: what Clinton knew and when he knew it vis-a-vis Al'Qaeda, Iraqi nuclear news, faulty intellegence reports, etc, etc.  For all I know, it was Hilary's secret chocolate-chip cookie recipe, but I doubt it.
Berger's defense, thus far, is that he "might have inadvertantly stuck these papers in his pocket while doing research for the Commission". I'm assuming that these documents were standard 8' x11 1/2" pieces of paper, boredered by red and white stripes, and market "SECRET" or something like. "Inadvertantly" is the incorrect adverb.
I'd like to give Berger the benefit of the doubt, but he's tainted by association with the Clintons. Just like billing files were "inadvertantly" misplaced in the White House residence, or 900 FBI dossiers "inadvertantly" wound up in the hands of an ex-bar bouncer that no one will admit to hiring, or how Janet Reno "inadvertantly" ordered the incineration of 80 Christians in Texas, the word rings hollow when used by these people. If I had to bet, I'd say Berger was attemptng to hide evidence, in the least, and re-write history, in the extreme. I say re-write history, because as Orwell once wrote "If the document does not exist, and the only place an event can actually be recorded is in human memory, and if memory can be shaped, directed and controlled, who is to say 'This happened, when?'" It's part and parcel of debating the meaning of "IS" , conveniently forgetting things 58 times under oath, and excusing a bald-faced lie as an excercise in "compartmentalization".
On the other hand, democrats are roasting GW Bush (again) over the infamous 16 words. They of course neglect that even if the 16 words had never been uttered the case for war with Iraq was easily defensible on it's merits solely.  The difference, however, is this: Bush did in fact utter those 16 words, and whether they are true, a lie, or taken out of context, he must defend them. The record of their utterance exists and people remember he said them. They are not conveniently buried in an archive that the general public will never have access to and they cannot "inadvertantly" be stolen, hidden or destroyed. History, in this case, cannot be re-written.
One wonders just what Sandy Berger would have done with those papers once he checked his pants pockets before putting them in the wash? Would they have been returned? Would theyhave been shredded? Would they have wound up in his cat's litter box? One place they definitely WOULD NOT have been is in front fo the 9/11 Commission, where they belonged.
I hope Sandy swings and I hope that before he takes the tumble, he exposes the rest of his cohorts for the despicable human beings they are.

Initial Impressions, Part IV...
I recently attended a party in Raleigh, NC. I went solely because it was the birthday party of a friend and because, as you know, I'm trying to find out as much about southern culture as I possibly can in a effort to live here in peace.
I should have stayed home.
Now, granted, the people I hung around with were only an tiny slice of what Raleigh had to offer and I shouldn't generalize, but dammit, if that was a representative portion of what lurks in that part of the state, I'd be afraid to look deeper.
Raleigh itself is a tiny city. Charlotte for that matter is too, but that's only because I hail from New York. It's a small reserve of large office buildings surrounded by wooded suburbs and office parks/shopping centers. There are definitely more trees and wildlife in and around Raleigh than there are in Charlotte, but then again, Raleigh is only half the size of Charlotte. I found the place rather depressing --- it's a one-horse town, and that horse is Triangle Park, the local tech center anchored by the evenrable SAS Institute. I can predict that should there be another tech upheaval, Raleigh will revert to it's natural state: something out of Hee-Haw, complete with Daisy Dukes and runaway hogs. This is definitely John Edwards country since most of the people I met were liberal Yankee transplants and the rest would require a government program in order to chew gum and walk at the same time. Again, I generalize because I only met about 30 or so.
Even in Charlotte, to arrive at a party wearing a "Stars and Bars" T-shirt knowing full well that Diversity would be present, would be considered bad form. Reinforcing the notion of southern women of being closet sex fiends, I can now tell you  that this is the first time in my life that I have been molested by ladies and feel the need to scream a string of filthy words at the top of my lungs. If I could file a sexual harrassment suit I would. I'd almost rather be assaulted by a man if given the choice. These women were incurably DESPERATE, all capitalized, too.
You wonder why that should be since most of them are charming before the get drunk, and then you see what appear to be men. They have moustaches, mostly, they wear pants, but that's all that can can identify them as male, unless they have a prison spit-and-pencil tattoo that proves they've served time. I now know how a canteloupe feels when it's being handled by someone determined to discern it freshness.
Unlike Charlotte, there was no karaoke atthis party, but there was a live band. At every party I have ever attended in NC that has a live band at it, the same music gets played: "Play that Funky Music, White Boy", "Freebird", any Allman Brother's tune, and the ubiquitous "Mony, Mony" with it's traditional "get fucked, get laid!" refrain. These tunes are like the National Anthem around here, except that people actually know the words. That's bad enough --- add a bunch of 40-450 year olds to the mix and it gets downright appalling. Add 300 pounds of back bacon to a swinging butt rocking out to these tunes, and it's disgusting.
One major difference between Charlotteans and Raleighans (if that's even a proper word) is that the folks in Charlotte are at least a lot more personable. Again, I generalize, but I haven't seen that many noses in the air since a vagrant let loose with a cheap-bourbon-induced fart in a crowded subway car. What they had to brag about is beyond me, but maybe one day, I'll find out.