Well the joke's finally out. Bob Novak now claims to have overheard a man tell another man that he heard that somebody named Richard armitage told somebody else that he heard that Joe Wilson was telling everybody that his wife, Valerie Plame, was a secret agent who cocked up a deal for him to take a free first class trip to Niger to run down a lead on some tasty radioactive yellow cake.
You remember the yellow cake business.
It was some sort of stuff that Mr. Saddam Hussein could use, in those few waning months of absolute power, in between shootings, gassings and general mayhem, to manufacture atomic bombs out of.
and Joe Wilson had some sort of secret cheese detector, maps, John Kerry's cell phone numbers, small photos of Valerie secreted on his person, a large wallet chained to a belt loop on his chinos, a salty and faded boonie hat, a long cover story, and plenty of cash to spread around, starting with the cabbie at the airport.
Somewhere on that long journey into utter frivolity, Joe discovered that everything about President Bush's war on terror was a crock and he could prove it, except that his wife was outed by persons unknown, somewhere in the Washington basin, dashing his hopes for a full and fair hearing on the matter.
Yep, Joe and Valerie have fought long and hard to keep all these things a secret. and someplace in all the highly public magazine covers and articles, newspaper interviews, photo shoots, cocktail parties, speeches, insensate yammerings, being the talk of the town, travels, appearing before hysterical Democrats, bawling on the far-left blogs, dressing up for wild nights on the town, driving around in souped up red convertibles, marching in lockstep, public chest beatings, and all the other silly business that reticent progressive heroes endure, they lost their hoped for anonymity.
and now, after all the flummoxing, ballyhoo, and the months spent on the front, middle and back pages in every magazine except Naval Proceedings and the Marine Corps Gazette, Country Joe and the Dish are suing just about everybody they can find in the listings under Republican Party in the Washington D.C. Metropolitan phone book, including Rove, Scooter Libby, Dick Cheney, and most likely Harry Whittington, now that he's up and around, for "whispering about them," openly "guffawing," about their predicament, and for, gulp, "sniggering," when they walk past.
They also suggest, having thrown out their Vanity Fair cover and article and after disposing of their gallons of hagiographical ink, that just about everybody else sought to "discredit, punish, and seek revenge," against the fab pair for their witty repartees, endless wardrobe sessions, custom smiles, and superlative jibes against the Presidency.
Some see an honest attempt to recoup their "suffering."
Others observe two callous wheedlers looking for more headlines, a few fast bucks, a dose of sympathy, more invites to the shows like What's My Line, a free set of legal proceedings thanks to the cranks who'll send them the dough, and a pair of sad sacks who are finally playing out their string in a forlorn hope.
and the latest of these wild attributions are being cobbled together with straight faces in our nation's capital, of all places, by trial lawyers, of course, who hope to enrich the poor suffering victims of an administration run totally amok while they pad their own accounts.
Have none of them, in their vast exposure to down and dirty Democratic politics, the Clintons, and Harry Reid, heard of that rank old political adage – why write when you can smile, why smile when you can nod, and why, for Heaven's sake, nod when you can wink?
I mean come, guys. Who do you take us all for? What kind of fools do you think we are?
Of course, they're also stealing a chapter from the Clinton & Kerry Handbook and are forming another age old Democratic Defense Fund to help them pay their way throughout the course of this highly meretricious lawsuit, as it winds through the labyrinthine halls of federal justice, by having the party faithful send in their lunch money so Joe and Val can continue living the high life without worrying about the legal costs associated with a base humbug of a tort.
Let's see, is there a Clinton judicial appointee available in the halls of justice to hear the case? Do I see two?
and I can hear that ragtime now.
"Come on along you big strong men. Uncle Joe's in trouble again. He's got himself in a terrible jam. Folks are whisperin' up a real campaign. Poor aunt Val's about to go insane. and it's one, two, three gimme some ‘o that yellow cake, Karl Rove and Dick Cheney, too. ‘Fore they discredit, punish, and seek revenge. and it's one two, three…What are we suing for? Don't ask me, I don't give a damn. Next stop is Niamey, Niger, and the airport, too."
Boy, oh, boy, Joe and Val, the poster kids for a Bridge Too Far, in the dental whitening angle, for a bit too much grasp, and for coming undone.
Let's see how it all plays out.
Pursuant to Title 17 U.S.C. 107, other copyrighted work is provided for educational purposes, research, critical comment, or debate without profit or payment. If you wish to use copyrighted material from this site for your own purposes beyond the 'fair use' exception, you must obtain permission from the copyright owner. Views are those of authors and not necessarily those of Canada Free Press. Content is Copyright 1997-2024 the individual authors. Site Copyright 1997-2024 Canada Free Press.Com Privacy Statement