Saturday, September 17, 2005
A Letter to Judith Miller
Oh Judy, a penny for your thoughts. Did Ambassador John Bolton’s recent visit trigger in your mind lyrics of a popular Rick James song between jailhouse videos of Ludacris, Diddy, Eminem and 50 Cents?
Yes Judy, you’re “a very kinky girl,” with a twisted sense of loyalty. “The kind of girl you read about…” but wish to be done with now.
But before everything ends, we know Bolton had ambition, temperament, design, power, instrumentality and passion for the Plame hatchet job; and his involvement has a definitive pitch of truth when measured against his actions this past summer.
Even you must must admit that Bolton acted more like a “made-man” in Bush’s La Cosa Nostra than humble nominee; and like the mob hit man who knows if he goes down he's taking the ocean liner of corruption down with him, he set about the business of getting office space, same as if he’d won confirmation, as the Senate raged about the pros and cons of his appointment.
Did you know Bolton was demanding "double the office space reserved within the State Department for the ambassador to United Nations,” even after he'd twice been filibustered by Senate Democrats, as the Washington Post reports?
And Judy, unlike his predecessors who’d managed with a modest office in Washington, Bolton was commanding “more space and a larger staff,” befitting a loyal mob captain. He wasn't about to hang around New York while "policy was being made in Washington." No siree, he was going to make sure he was the ground of both flooors.
Promises made; and more tellingly, promises kept. Bolton received a summer presidential recess appointment.
Speak and share your knowledge, Judy. It seems you may have liked “the boys in the [Bush] band” a tad too much. “Temptations sing!" Bolton was in the thick of it, as undersecretary for Arms Control and International Security, was he not?
Your words could immediately release you from the bars of misplaced allegiance. Smite the miscreant who silently watches you languish in jail. Cut a deal with Fitzgerald and be done with this jarring song. And when Bolton comes-a-courting, tell him your toadying freaky days are over.
Oh Judy, a penny for your thoughts. Did Ambassador John Bolton’s recent visit trigger in your mind lyrics of a popular Rick James song between jailhouse videos of Ludacris, Diddy, Eminem and 50 Cents?
Yes Judy, you’re “a very kinky girl,” with a twisted sense of loyalty. “The kind of girl you read about…” but wish to be done with now.
But before everything ends, we know Bolton had ambition, temperament, design, power, instrumentality and passion for the Plame hatchet job; and his involvement has a definitive pitch of truth when measured against his actions this past summer.
Even you must must admit that Bolton acted more like a “made-man” in Bush’s La Cosa Nostra than humble nominee; and like the mob hit man who knows if he goes down he's taking the ocean liner of corruption down with him, he set about the business of getting office space, same as if he’d won confirmation, as the Senate raged about the pros and cons of his appointment.
Did you know Bolton was demanding "double the office space reserved within the State Department for the ambassador to United Nations,” even after he'd twice been filibustered by Senate Democrats, as the Washington Post reports?
And Judy, unlike his predecessors who’d managed with a modest office in Washington, Bolton was commanding “more space and a larger staff,” befitting a loyal mob captain. He wasn't about to hang around New York while "policy was being made in Washington." No siree, he was going to make sure he was the ground of both flooors.
Promises made; and more tellingly, promises kept. Bolton received a summer presidential recess appointment.
Speak and share your knowledge, Judy. It seems you may have liked “the boys in the [Bush] band” a tad too much. “Temptations sing!" Bolton was in the thick of it, as undersecretary for Arms Control and International Security, was he not?
Your words could immediately release you from the bars of misplaced allegiance. Smite the miscreant who silently watches you languish in jail. Cut a deal with Fitzgerald and be done with this jarring song. And when Bolton comes-a-courting, tell him your toadying freaky days are over.
// posted by Howling Latina @ 5:33 PM 
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Hopefully when Fitzpatrick has finally finished his investigation Ms Miller is only one of the Bush loyalists receiving indictments.
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