10/1/2005
Too Weird Not to Post About
I wasn't going to write anything today. Early fall in our nation's capital is not too shabby, and I was out and about. Why would anyone be inside on a day like this?
Later, though, while surfing around, I ran into this HuffingtonPost column. Here's the excerpt Arianna took from the NYT on a letter from Scooter Libby (yeah, that nickname is going to puzzle historians for a few dozen years) to Judy Miller:
Your reporting, and you, are missed. Like many Americans, I admire your principled stand.I don't know about you, but I read that and needed to take a minute to cool myself down with a sasparilla- extra ice.
But, like many of your friends and readers, I would welcome you back among the rest of us, doing what you do best – reporting.
You went into jail in the summer. It is fall now. You will have stories to cover – Iraqi elections and suicide bombers, biological threats and the Iranian nuclear program. Out West, where you vacation, the aspens will already be turning. They turn in clusters, because their roots connect them. Come back to work – and life. Until then, you will remain in my thoughts and prayers.
There's no exact analogy to Watergate, but can you imagine, Bob Haldeman writing a similar note to Carl Bernstein?
Carl, my friend, my brother in the nascent unfolding of this great conspiracy. The hot shafts of August, have turned to the golden stalks of October. But where is your gentle prose in this hour? The balm that caresses and soothes the terse sentences, and fragments thereof of Woodward. He is man enough, I suppose, but you are his muse- and mine.
Carl, I yearn for you tragically.
Liddy sends his love.
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