MURDER IN EAST KENTUCKY UPDATE: 'Neither confirm nor deny'

WESTON, W.Va.
Stopped here on my way back from Kentucky to check on the blog and update the latest on the Sparkman murder investigation. The most important development is that law enforcement officials are coming under increased pressure either to solve the case or to start explaining why they haven't solved it.

There is evidently a killer or killers at large in eastern Kentucky. Given the brutal nature of Bill Sparkman's death, the particularly stubborn official insistence on a "neither confirm nor deny" stance toward key details of the case is beginning to annoy people in Clay and Laurel counties, including public officials.

Because I'm once again using the lobby computer at a hotel -- the new Holiday Inn Express here beside the I-79 exit is very nice -- and because my wife is already angry at my delayed return, there is only time for a brief update, highlighting key points.

• First, I don't know if this has been reported anywhere else, but according to today's edition of the Manchester (Ky.) Enterprise, Kentucky State Police and other investigators re-visited the Hoskins Cemetery last Friday, Sept. 25. According to the Enterprise, investigators thoroughly re-examined the remote Clay County site, about 12 miles east of Manchester, where Sparkman's body was found Sept. 12. And, of course, officials refused to confirm that report. However, if the Enterprise staff doesn't know what goes on in that neck of the woods, nobody does.
• Second, Sparkman's 19-year-old son Josh -- whom Sparkman adopted as an infant -- is furious that police are refusing to rule out suicide as a cause of his father's death. However, the state medical examiner has officially confirmed that Sparkman died of asphyxiation.
• Third, readers interested in this case should be aware that many people in east Kentucky are angry at the Associated Press -- and whoever the AP's source was -- for an article last week which the Kentucky State Police spokesman, Don Trosper, has characterized as "misinformation" that is "damaging to our investigation."

It is strongly suspected that this misinformation came from a U.S. Justice Department source, either in Washington or Louisville. Considering that it is because of the FBI's involvement that other officials are under "marching orders" not to discuss the case, if the AP's bad source was federal . . .

Well, perhaps I don't need to point out the irony: The feds are, on the one hand, big-dogging the investigation and forbidding anyone else from talking about it while, on the other hand, some federal source is feeding wrong information to the AP. At least, that's the very strong suspicion of people familiar with the situation.

Tempus fugits, and I really need to get home -- we're a one-car family, and my wife needs to go buy groceries -- but I want to take a minute to address a recent troll problem here. Some persistently "anonymous" critic has repeatedly attempted to leave comments derogating my reporting abilities. At one point, this critic accused me of being a "cub" reporter.

How many times do I have to repeat myself about this? Just because you don't know what I'm doing, don't assume that I don't know what I'm doing. I've got a file folder full of notes. I've got photos and recorded interviews. I've got the phone numbers of plenty of sources. There are sources I've interviewed whom I have neither named nor quoted, and there are good reasons for everything I've done or haven't done in covering this story.

Because I've sometimes used my personal blog to highlight particular incidents or personalities -- like Kentucky's most amazing journalist, Morgan Bowling -- does not mean that this is The Big Story. What I've tried to do is to give readers some insight into how I do my job and the wonderful people I've met along the way.

Considering that it has now been 20 days since Sparkman's body was discovered, there is the distinct possibility that this investigation won't produce The Big Story for a long time, if ever. (Remember that Morgan Bowling's father was gunned down 16 years ago, a crime that is still a cold case in the files of the Kentucky State Police.)

Which is to say I didn't feel any real competitive pressure in recent days, so I've done the blog updates as I have, rather than trying to "chase" other media. Yet because of the depth of my work during my first reporting trip to East Kentucky, I'll be ready when The Big Story breaks. Also, I've talked to other journalists -- as a matter of fact, I just got off the phone with one long-time associate whom I won't name -- who might like to come along on my next trip to Clay County.

So, to our anonymous troll, I would like to explain that you don't know what tips I've checked out, or how I've checked them out. Those reports that a journalist rocked the house Wednesday during karaoke at a pub in Richmond, Ky.? That the man who sang a Hank Thompson classic made inquiries which led him to the vicinity of Main and Limestone streets in Lexington, Ky., in the wee hours this morning?

Sorry. I can neither confirm nor deny.

PS.: Yes, I know the headline says "murder," and the police say they haven't ruled out other causes. But reasonable people can conclude that when a man is found dead, blindfolded, gagged and bound with duct tape -- naked except for his socks -- suicide and accident are nearly as far-fetched as "natural causes." Somebody killed Bill Sparkman, and excuse me for not pretending we don't know that. This is my personal blog, so please feel free to convene the Blogger Ethics Committee and expel me from the club.

Remember: the winning number is between 8 and 10

by Smitty

IX-nay ompetitition-cay oting-vay!

This blog has not only written the rulebook on getting megahits, but has linked hard, fast and continuously in shameless self...obedience.

So when you vote for the winning entry in the "Iowahawk Endowment for the Arts $33.18 Steel Cage Art Death Match", keep the cube root of 729 and the one who links you most in mind.

Also remember: this blog has produced such atrocities as:

• OediPOTUS Wrecks
• Waiting for O-Dough

Whether or not this blog wins the coveted prize, there will likely be more shameless acts of irresponsible literary vandalism in the offing. However, if you vote for me and leave your name in the comments, I promise to use the letters of your name in that of a future story character's moniker.

Also, voting for a an entry whose number equals the count of squares on a tic-tac-toe board, along with a fiver, is likely to get you a cup o' joe at most coffee shops.

So ya got that goin' for ya. Which is nice.

Attention: Rule 5 fans of Kelsee Brown

MANCHESTER, Ky. -- Remember the 19-year-old Democrat who got misrepresented in the MSM as typical of gummint-hatin' Clay Countians here in the region of Kentucky now notorious as Lower Glennbeckistan?

Well, it seems Kelsee is even less typical than anyone, myself included, had any cause to suspect. Which is to say, guys -- I hate to break you hearts -- but the beautiful Miss Brown is . . . playing for the other team.

Yup. And it was strange how this was revealed. You see, I'd gone to visit Judge Garrison, who owns a catfish farm about six miles outside Manchester, near Gray Fork Baptist Church. Judge Garrison, who was Clay County's judge executive for 13 years, is a humorous and insightful personality -- a real character -- who can talk for hours about the economic history of eastern Kentucky.

The Judge got to talking, showing me the fish ponds, and it was near sundown when I finally left. Coming back into Manchester, I planned to make a pit stop at McDonald's and then hit the road. But they had their parking lot blocked off for repaving, so I decided to make my pit stop at the Huddle House instead.

Having availed myself of the facilities, I sat down in a booth with my notes, a stack of local newspapers and a road atlas, to review my trip and plan my route home. Ordered coffee and hashbrowns. Then, when business slowed to nothing, Kelsee came over and sat across from me in the booth, just to chat about the video that made her semi-famous.

"Wow, it must have been tough being an Obama supporter in Corbin," I said, having learned during my visit here that her hometown has a reputation as a hotbed of racism.

She laughed and said, "Yeah, I was always the rebel in my family." And, as she then explained, her family is quite prominent in Corbin.

Hmmm. "So why'd you have to leave town?" I asked.

Logical inference. Corbin is much larger than Manchester, and for a 19-year-old from an affluent Corbin family to be working the grill here . . . Well, my inference was correct.

"Honestly?" Kelsee said. "You really want to know?"

Sure. Why not?

"I'm gay. I came out in the seventh grade, but I knew I was gay since third grade."

My expression must have ill concealed my amazement. OK, she said she was a rebel, and I could think of several ways that might have caused trouble in Corbin, Ky., but . . . Well, I never would have guessed that.

She's not a bitter, angry man-hater, though. As she said, she just likes more feminine-type personalities. Which was kind of weird, in that she seemed to like me a lot. But we don't want to contemplate that sort of complex geometric distortion in the gaydar bounce-back pattern, do we?

No, we don't. I'm a happily married father of six, and anyone who suggests that this is some sort of overcompensation should be warned that my Samoan attorney is notoriously sensitive about potentially libelous defamation. It's OK for me to call myself a "neo-Confederate lesbian" -- that's just self-referential humor -- but woe unto any Little Green Loser who doesn't get the joke.

Once again, it was that moment when a journalist must ask himself, "What Would Hunter S. Thompson Do?" And in this case, the answer was to say, "Well, I guess I'd better get rolling. Wife's expecting me Thursday morning . . . twelve-hour drive . . . nice to meet you, etc., etc."

You know something? I forgot to pay the bill. But I ran over here to the Manchester Regional Campus of Eastern Kentucky to file this final report before driving back, and now if I book it east out the parkway about 90 mph . . .

They'll never catch me. And Kelsee wouldn't dare press charges. Or would she?

Laurel County, Ky.: Just like old days, I'm told to report to the principal's office!

That's what the sign on the door of Johnson Elementary School said: "ALL VISITORS MUST REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE."

Johnson Elementary is the school where Bill Sparkman worked part-time as an instructional assistant in an after-school program for about a decade.

Donna at the front desk of the Laurel County Public Library -- where I've been using their computers today -- gave me directions: Take a left on 192, go down to the light, turn left (west) on 80 and go back into town. Before you get to the railroad tracks, there will be an IGA store on your left. McWhorter Street is on the right, across from the IGA. Take McWhorter Street until it crosses the parkway, at which point it becomes McWhorter Road, and the school is a little more than a mile down, on the right.

The principal of the school is a tall, bespectacled man with jug ears named Tyler McWhorter, although he said he's not sure if the road was named for his family. McWhorter has only been at the school a couple of years and didn't know Sparkman. He gave me the cell-phone number of someone who could be more helpful.

Having figured out the computer set-up here at the library a bit better, I can now link Joseph Deal's article in Monday's London (Ky.) Sentinel-Echo, which I think may be the most important news story yet about the Sparkman case.

Joe Deal is a smart, tough, experienced journalist, a native of Wisconsin. Like most good newspapermen, Deal feels a real responsibility to his community and to the truth. It's important for people far away from eastern Kentucky to understand that misinformation from certain media outlets has resulted in the defamation of an entire community. But the entire 25,000 people of Clay County can't bring a class-action suit for libel, can they?

There seems to be a lot of craziness going around online lately. Brooke Shields is nude, Roman Polanski's been arrested, Gore Vidal is warning about "dictatorship," Bette Midler is talking "civil war," and there are even dangerous crackpots alleging that I'm somehow involved with Sarah Palin. (Let me make one thing perfectly clear to Dave Weigel: I did not have political relations with that governor, Mrs. Palin.)

When the going gets weird, the weird get going, and pretty soon I'm going to have to hit the road back up toward Washington. My wife's worried about me, down here with all these Kentucky women -- 19-year-old short-order cooks and 20-year-old journalists and so forth. Little Miss Attila suspects a "scam," a term that my Samoan attorney says might be considered defamatory per se.

As always, the vital question to ask is, "What Would Hunter S. Thompson Do?" And the blindingly obvious answer in this case is: Get the heck out of this library and go east on the parkway, very fast, before anyone even suspects I've gone.

Maybe I'll stop and talk to more sources -- Judge Garrison was at the Huddle House on Tuesday night, and gave me his cell-phone number -- and could possibly even make another post or two before I leave Kentucky. But I've done what I came here to do. I've got enough notes and pictures to lash together 10,000 words if I had to, and plenty of sources I can contact if this story heats up again, as it may at any moment. Let's see, if I head southeast toward Bristol, then hit I-81 . . .

Laurel County, Ky.: It's kind of hard to cover a homicide investigation . . .

. . . when the police aren't saying anything. On the one hand, I perfectly understand the concerns of law enforcement, who are conducting an important criminal investigation, and don't want to compromise the case.

Let's face it: Criminals can read newspapers, too. Although police haven't officially ruled out an accidental cause of death, this would be the most bizarre case of self-asphyxiation in history. So if somebody killed Sparkman, the killer is still out there somewhere.

For all I know, the killer is right here in the Laurel County Public Library, where I'm using this computer. That little old lady over there . . . well, she doesn't look suspicious, but you can never tell, here in Lower Glennbeckistan, where there are thousands upon thousands of Republicans.

The cops have to do their job, and reporters have to do our jobs, and I'm trying to be as responsible as possible about this story. I just had a brief meeting -- little more than a handshake, really -- with Joseph Deal, managing editor of the local London (Ky.) Sentinel-Echo., whose Monday article about the Sparkman case should be must-reading for anyone interested in this story.

Deal's article Monday was an attempt to clear up "misinformation" -- that's Kentucky State Police spokesman Don Trosper's word -- created by the Sept. 24 article that made this case a national sensation. The Sept. 24. story was clearly flawed, in more ways than one, but the problem is that law enforcement is saying so little about the investigation that nobody can tell exactly what is true or false.

Ergo, we don't even know what we don't know. This is when it's helpful to have a reporter on the scene who's also a "top Hayekian public intellectual," given F.A. Hayek's theories about the diffuse nature of information and the importance of unknown data.

BTW, this public library -- build in 2003 -- is large, beautiful and ultra-modern. However, the reason there are no links in this article is that they've blocked the "open new windows" function on there PC terminals, effectively rendering their computers useless for a blogger. Sigh.

There are other people and places I need to see here in Laurel County, which was where Sparkman lived. Ever since I arrived here, I've been struck by the fact that Sparkman's body was found more than 30 miles east of his home. Although he was employed part-time as a Census worker in Clay County, one of the things we don't know is whether he was actually working the day he disappeared.

By the way, Sparkman apparently disappeared Sept. 9, missed an appointment Sept. 10, and his body was found in the Hoskins Cemetery on Sept. 12. So that's a four-day time span that the police will have to examine very closely.

Will have more later. Ciao.

Another Black Conservative on Darrion Albert

by Smitty

Another Black Conservative remains positive on the bully pulpit power of the President:

Glorification of the "gangsta life" is everywhere in black culture. It is in the music, the videos and almost everything else our youth consume. Where are the black parents, teachers and leaders to say; "enough of this shit"! Where is the Congressional Black Caucus or the NAACP to speak out on the destruction of our people from within? Again, all they offer are tepid responses.

As you are all well aware, I have no love for Obama's whacked out Socialist polices. However, I do have great respect for Obama as a role model for the black community. He is educated, he clearly loves and respects his wife and he is a good and providing father to his children. He has spoken to blacks about the importance of education, the need to strive and fatherhood. As President of the United States, Obama is in a unique and possibly once in a lifetime position to finally bring attention to black on black violence.

Others have tried to raise the awareness of this subject, but none have had the soapbox Obama has. With such overwhelming support of blacks, I hope Obama takes advantage of this opportunity to speak out on this dire issue.

I'd like to feel confident, but I'll await action.

As you watch Bill Whittle (his best essay among many greats, in my opinion), you realize that there is an implicit, informally organized movement afoot to wreck everything.

I used to read the Rolling Stone, when I was too young to realize their inability to interview artists like Rush and Joe Satriani spoke volumes about the problem, and there would be four star reviews for rappers. Rolling Stone would go on about what 'artists' these nihilistic, sophomoric, sociopathic madmen were. Here is the NSFW version of "Boys in the Hood" given a Peter, Paul and Mary reading by Dynamite Hack. This lets the "work" criticize itself:

Connecting the dots between the Frankfurt School, the President's bizzarro record thus far, and the situation within American black culture, I suspect that BHO's racial identification may have been yet another marketing device en route some sad little banana republic regime. It would also be great to be proven wrong on this point.

Kentucky's Morgan Bowling vs. NY idiot

MANCHESTER, Ky. -- She is only 20 years old, but already she's news director of her hometown paper, the Manchester Enterprise. So guess what kind of e-mail Morgan Bowling got when the mysterious death of local Census worker Bill Sparkman made national headlines? From Gary S., in Malta, N.Y., came this Sept. 24 missive:

To M. Bowling
I just read the story on the AP about the Census worker who was hung. What I want to ask you is, are you people for real down there? I mean what kind of f---ing animals live in Clay County? I live in New York State, and this story is above and beyond even for New York!
Are you a bunch of uneducated, ignorant, toothless, dirty scumbags? What f---ing century are the residents of Clay County living in? Do you realize what this crime makes you people look like? Good God! What kind of people are you? This is a story one would expect would come out of Iraq or Afghanistan!
What are you people, backwoods ignorant freaks? Let me tell you this ranks up there with terrorists cutting peoples' heads off. This crime is a reflection of all the residents of Clay County. Are you all proud of that?
What is the average education level of the residents of Clay County? Third grade? You are all disgusting pigs, and if one could level a curse at a community, then I curse the whole lot of you. May Clay County Kentucky be wiped off the face of this earth by fire or some other disaster such as a flood or an earthquake!! And may all the residents of Clay County -- man, woman, and child -- rot away in Hell forever!!
Gary S-----
Malta, N.Y.

To which the young journalist replied courteously:

Mr. S-----,
If you've read the story on the AP about Mr. Sparkman, then I hope that maybe you've been following other coverage . . . and you might know that details given to the AP surrounding Sparkman's death may or may not be true, according to police and the FBI.
What has happened to Mr. Sparkman is a tragedy, and no one is saddened more than I that this happened here.
To answer your question, no, we are not animals. People here are just as educated as anyone might hope to find in New York. Rural Appalachia is a sincerely beautiful land and I challenge you to find a place parallel in beauty to this region.
The stereotype we have been slapped with is unfair, undeserved and, like all stereotypes, born of fear and blindness. . . .
But the truth is, the world is filled with ignorant, evil people, Mr. S-----. And if you honestly believe that this incident, which was an isolated incident, can't happen anywhere else, then that shows how ignorant you are.
I feel sorry for you, because you can only see the very elaborate picture the media has painted for you. Maybe if you pulled the wool off of your eyes, you might accept this for what it is: a horrible tragedy that shouldn't have happened here, or anywhere else.
But it's easier to hate than to accept, isn't it?
Thanks,
Morgan Bowling

Well, we could leave it at that, but let me tell you a little bit about this 20-year-old college junior who works full-time as a professional journalist. When she met me in the lobby of the Enterprise on Tuesday afternoon, Miss Bowling led me back to her office and I noticed a tattoo on her back, just below her neck.

Miss Bowling is not exactly what someone in New York or Washington might expect a small-town Kentucky girl to be. She wears black fingernail polish and black clothes, has a sort of alternative-rock hairstyle and sports a "Johnny Cash Is My Friend" bumper sticker on her car.

After we had talked for several minutes about the Sparkman case and the situation in Clay County, I asked her, "What's up with the tattoo on your neck?"

She laughed and told me that actually she has four tattoos. The one on her neck says, "Born to Suffer" -- the same motto as her grandfather's tattoo, the one he got while serving his country in Vietnam, more than 20 years before Morgan was born.

Miss Bowling was largely raised by her maternal grandmother. Her father, who never married Morgan's mom, was named John Farmer. He was murdered -- gunned down in an ambush -- when she was 4 years old. Her father's murder has never been solved, and the case is still in the cold case files of the Kentucky State Police.

After Miss Bowling and her staff finished this week's edition of the Enterprise on Tuesday evening, we had dinner at the Huddle House (where we interviewed Kelsee Brown, who is not a right-wing extremist) and had a very interesting conversation.

After explaining how I ended up in Washington, D.C., I told Miss Bowling that I'd been a mentor to many young Washington journalists (among them Josiah Ryan, now of the Jerusalem Post). I was giving a thumbnail version of my career pep talk and, when I got to the point about finding a role model to emulate, Miss Bowling interrupted.

"Let me ask you something," she said. "What do you think about Hunter S. Thompson?"

Heh. As I always say, whenever in your journalism career you are confronted with a tough decision, sometimes it helps to ask yourself, "What Would Hunter S. Thompson Do?"

Then I told her the story of how, in January 2008, I'd made the decision to leave the Washington Times and go to Africa. I told her about my resignation letter, in which I wrote that it was as if God said, "Go."

People thought I was crazy, and maybe I was, but if I hadn't made that crazy decision to become a freelancer, I wouldn't have been sitting at home Saturday fuming about Andrew Sullivan's portrayal of Clay County as a fetid swamp of violent troglodytic backwardness -- and gotten the gonzo idea to make this trip. Once more, it seems, God said, "Go."

Anyway, just so TV and radio producers can get an idea of Miss Bowling's persona, I did a short video:

The producers of Glenn Beck, Sean Hannity, "Red Eye," etc., should contact Morgan Bowling (e-mail) at the Manchester Enterprise, (606) 598-2319.

Please also see my American Spectator article, "Murder and Motives in Clay County," and my "Reply to S.L. Toddard" at the Hot Air Green Room.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion

by Smitty

While we cherish our separation of church and state (and revile our separation of church and culture), it's important to understand the context in which it came about.

The Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (FAZ), which is Germany's NYT, has this article, with a rough Google Translate here, describing the 9% tax levied by the government against Roman Catholics and Protestants. This is a check box on the form you sign when registering at the local Rathaus (city hall, but "rat house" captures it beautifully and correctly).

Strangely enough, church affiliation and attendance in Germany is cratering. 130,000 exited the Protestant church in 2007 for example. 121,155 Catholics followed suit in 2008. Those large, beautiful churches echo mightily in their emptiness.

As a staunchly sectarian American, the concept of Caesar propping up that which is God's is just bizarre. But then, even the most exquisite brick collection is exactly that. The Church existed long before these European structures, and shall surely outlast them, as long as the candle burns.

VIDEO: Kelsee Brown is not -- repeat, is not -- a right-wing extremist

MANCHESTER, Ky. -- Having a late dinner Tuesday with Manchester Enterprise news director Morgan Bowling at the Huddle House here, our interview was interrupted by the cook.

"Are you a reporter?" she asked, and when I replied that I was, she said: "Hi, I'm Kelsee, the Huddle House Killer."

Her jocular introduction was answered with a joke of my own, but the young lady -- Kelsee Brown, 19, from Corbin, Ky. -- then told us an amazing story, explaining how she was misrepresented by another reporter covering the Bill Sparkman story. Here is how that Sept. 24 article portrayed Miss Brown:

Kelsee Brown, a waitress at Huddle House, a 24-hour chain restaurant in Manchester, when asked about the death, said she thinks the government sometimes has the wrong priorities.
"Sometimes I think the government should stick their nose out of people's business and stick their nose in their business at the same time. They care too much about the wrong things," she said.

In a brief interview Tuesday night, Miss Brown said that her words were misquoted and her sentiments misconstrued. She said what she was actually trying to tell the reporter -- who had asked her what she thought about the Sparkman killing -- was something entirely different.

Miss Brown said she told the reporter that all she knew about the apparent homicide of the 51-year-old Census worker in the vicinity of Big Creek, about 12 miles east of Manchester, was what she learned from media accounts. Therefore, she was hesitant to pass judgment on the case. Miss Brown says she didn't mention government, and instead was saying that the news media should not "stick their noses in people's business."

However, her words -- which she insists were misquoted and misinterpreted -- were subsequently cited on an Internet discussion board under the headline, "Ignorant red state morons defend lynching of census worker."

Miss Brown says she is not a Republican, but is a registered Democrat and, during her 2008 senior year at Corbin High School, was actually a leader of students supporting Barack Obama for the presidency.

Miss Brown then recounted her story for my camera. Here is the world-exclusive video:

Miss Brown emphasized that she does not speak for her employer and that management of Huddle House share her deep sympathy for Sparkman's friends and family. Having spoken at some length to Miss Brown, I can testify that she is very friendly and cheerful, with a keen mind and a warm smile. Anyone wishing to learn more about this interview should contact Morgan Bowling (e-mail) at the Manchester Enterprise, (606) 598-2319.

-- Robert Stacy McCain

UPDATE: Check out this article from Monday's London (Ky.) Sentinel-Echo about the "pure speculation" and "misinformation" in the national media.

UPDATE 10:15 a.m.: Linked by Jimmie Bise Jr. at Sundries Shack, Moe Lane at Red State, and Dan Riehl at Riehl World View, and at Memeorandum.

Brooks Fisking News

by Smitty

This is normally Stacy's bailiwick, but, as he's getting his King of the Road on (see Update III), we'll let Ran pick up the slack.

It seems that Ira Stoll crushes Brooks' assertion that "Over the past few years, however, there clearly has been an erosion in the country's financial values." Stoll does this by pointing out that New England colonies ran lotteries rather frequently, despite all the Brooksian retrospective airbrushery.

Reading this pitiful excuse for a column, I think any real conservative is brought to the brink of projectile vomiting by the vapid analysis which follows:

Over the past few months, those debt levels have begun to come down. But that doesn’t mean we’ve re-established standards of personal restraint. We’ve simply shifted from private debt to public debt. By 2019, federal debt will amount to an amazing 83 percent of G.D.P. (before counting the costs of health reform and everything else). By that year, interest payments alone on the federal debt will cost $803 billion.

These may seem like dry numbers, mostly of concern to budget wonks. But these numbers are the outward sign of a values shift. If there is to be a correction, it will require a moral and cultural movement.

"We've simply shifted", Mr. Brooks? No, our Progressive overlords have blown sunshine up the fundament, while the media fiddled, since the Federal Reserve Act. Seemingly useful, yet eventually sucktacular entitlements have been on parade for ~70 years of shiny, rose-tinted glasses decline.

Among things bringing belated consciousness of the peril have been the likes of Ross Perot and the internet, no thanks to the propaganda media.

Our current cultural politics are organized by the obsolete culture war, which has put secular liberals on one side and religious conservatives on the other. But the slide in economic morality afflicted Red and Blue America equally.

Mr. Brooks: please repeat "obsolete culture war" a million times. While this will have no effect on the struggle to avoid assimilation by the Progressive Borg, it will help you achieve a beneficial self-denial-of-service attack for the sake of the rest of us.

And WTF this "economic morality", sir? "Economic" is a word, and "morality" is a word, but an immoral act is exactly that. Please give us GPS coordinates to this alternate location of yours where you meaningfully compartmentalize an abstraction like morality. So it can be avoided. You offer a handy example of the very decadence you claim to decry, sir.

Remember, Stacy needs your support on the road, so ponder the tip jar as required, please.

Phenomics—the Phinal Phrontier

by Smitty

Dr. Barbara Oakley continues to threaten the Holy Narrative. "Phenomics—the Phinal Phrontier (Part 1)" introduces an interesting series that could, I speculate, do for psychologists what O'Keefe and Giles did for ACORN. OK, so the psychologists aren't ACORN, and the article is far less dramatic. Well worth your time, though:

Bob Bilder and his group are doing the unthinkable. They are boldly pointing out that not only is the current system of psychiatric diagnoses inaccurate, unreliable, and subjective—-it actually prevents the research necessary to understand the basic causes and treatments of mental illness. In fact, trying to research personality-related syndromes and dysfunction using the officially recognized DSM diagnostic categories is a major reason why the era of personalized medicine—that is, the ability to use a person’s genetics to tell which therapies might be most effective—still seems so far in the future.

Killing Ground in Clay County: The Mystery on Hoskins Cemetery Road

MANCHESTER, Ky. -- No time to do a complete report yet, but I wanted y'all to know that today I visited the Hoskins Family Cemetery, where the body of Bill Sparkman was discovered Sept. 12. Because I have more appointments later this evening, I must hurry and do a brief report. I'm filing from the computer lab at East Kentucky University's Manchester Regional Campus.

The entrance to Hoskins Cemetery Road, off Arnetts Fork Road, about 12 miles east of Manchester. The gate is always locked, although a 4-wheel drive vehicle with high clearance can ford the stream just to the right of the culvert. The cemetery is about 100 yards past the gate. I walked up there alone. When you drive 570 miles to get the story, you'd doggone better get the story. "Yea, though I walk through the valley . . ."

A grave in the Hoskins cemetery. Notice that Kathleen was 14 years old when she married 18-year-old Harvey Hoskins in 1946, and they were married for 43 years, until Harvey's death in 1989.

The historic Peabody Ranger Station about a mile from the Hoskins Cemetery. Park rangers there are under orders not to speak to reporters about the Sparkman murder.

Sam, 18, beside the cappuccino dispenser at Couch's Marathon, at the Highway 66 exit off the Hal Wilson Parkway. Sam's aunt, Ruby Couch, runs the store, but didn't want her picture taken. Jessica, who gave me directions to the Hoskins Cemetery, told me to stop by Couch's and say hello to Ruby.

Paul Couch owns the Marathon station. His late wife, Maria De La Luce Serrato Couch, known as "Lucy," was Mexican. Mr. Couch met his wife while stationed in El Paso, Texas, with the Army in 1966. They had three children together and he has three grandchildren. Mr. Couch smokes cigars. I've got a slow leak in the left-front tire of the KIA. Mr. Couch filled up the tire for me.

Morgan Bowling is the 20-year-old news director of the Manchester Enterprise. She has lived here all her life, and has four tattoos, including a pistol with the motto "Get Tough Or Die" on her left thigh. Miss Bowling did not show me the tattoo, but only described it. She is a junior at EKU-MRC, and the same age as my oldest daughter. (I am not an award-winning film director beloved in France.)

Four teenage skateboarders on the sidewalk at the Family Dollar shopping center in Manchester. How all-American is that?

Well, I promised Miss Bowling I'd get back to the Enterprise office before they hit deadline. Hit the tip jar now, y'hear?

Does this tune sound familiar?

by Smitty

As Ed Driscoll notes, "Hollywood Unites To Defend Polanski". Forget the "What if that was a conservative" question. The more interesting question is "How does this resemble Ted Kennedy?"

On the one hand, we're asked to justify statutory rape. On the other, some sort of murder. We'll let the legal beagles split those hairs.

In either case, the left enjoins us to reject standard interpretations of the law, and pursue instead some hand-wavy sort of justice: "He's an artisté", or "He's done so much good legislative penance".

So I differ slightly with Ed on this one. It's not so much a dark Kafka moment of the Law attacking an individual, but a bifurcation of the idea of equality under the law into a common and elite branch of law.

Who is S.L. Toddard?

He left a snarky comment on my American Spectator story, and merits a response in the Hot Air Green Room:

Mr. Toddard, what you are doing is what psychologists call "projection." Evidence and facts are irrelevant to your own worldview, yet you wish to be considered a rational, well-informed person, so you project onto scapegoated "Right-Wing militants" your own faults and errors. You should seek professional help.
Quite obviously, a man who drives 570 miles to Clay County, Ky., to find out what's actually happening here cares more about the facts than a man who just sits around ranting about "poison flowing from the right wing media sewer." . . .

Read the whole thing.

In non-Kentucky news today . . .

Sitting here in my Kentucky hotel eating my free continental breakfast -- Hunter S. Thompson always recommended starting the day with a big breakfast -- so let's aggregate some morning headlines from Memeorandum:

• Roman Polanski raped a 13-year-old girl in 1977. Anyone who is so admired by the French must be a particularly vile pervert.
• They're doing committee whip counts on ObamaCare. How could legislation so spectacularly bad be taken so seriously? This bill should have been DOA.
• Lloyd Marcus has some interesting thoughts on raaaaacism. I guarantee you Lloyd Marcus would be more welcome in Clay County, Ky., than either Andrew Sullivan or Roman Polanski.
• The Sarah Palin autobiography will be go on sale before Thanksgiving. Hey, when we're doing with this Kentucky trip, how about y'all sending me to Anchorage. Lynn Vincent tells me that Chuck Heath is a super-cool guy. Team Palin won't let me talk to Sarah, but I'd really like to meet Chuck.

Well, got to take a shower, get dressed and go meet with some sources who (a) don't know I'm coming, and (b) don't know they're sources. Old shoe-leather trick: Show up unannounced, so they can't avoid you.

Hit the tip jar, y'all. Today is going to be fun . . .

1 Megahit for Legal Insurrection

by Smitty

William A. Jacobson celebrates a big milestone, and this blog is grateful to him for a steady stream of cogent posts.
Best wishes to you, sir.

Question: Who commits crimes?

Answer: Criminals.

That's one thing that occurs to me here in eastern Kentucky, where I've come to report on the investigation into the murder of part-time Census Bureau employee Bill Sparkman.

Consider the elaborately sadistic nature of Sparkman's death -- he was gagged, blindfolded, and bound hand and foot with duct tape, then hanged from a tree limb, so that he died by asphyxiation. Surely the person who committed a crime of such wanton cruelty must have an extensive criminal record.

And that's my chief contribution tonight to the whirlwind of speculation surrounding Sparkman's death. I drove 570 miles Monday, stopping at Fairmont, W.Va., to file a brief update, and then stopping again near Huntington, W.Va., to take a one-hour nap in the car. I didn't come here to speculate, but to report.

It's not a journalist's job to solve crimes. That's what cops are for, and thank God. Whoever killed Sparkman is a very dangerous person, and I don't want them coming after me.

It's very easy for Andrew Sullivan to sit around speculating about "Southern populist terrorism whipped up by the GOP and its Fox and talk radio cohorts." I'd like to see Sully sit across from Rodney Miller and say that.

Mr. Miller is in charge of advertising sales at the Manchester (Ky.) Enterprise. I took a wrong turn when I got to Manchester, detouring up around the courthouse and sheriff's department before crossing over the bridge to find the Enterprise office.

I'd promised Morgan Bowling, news director of the Enterprise, that I'd make it there before 5 p.m., and it took some genuinely criminal driving to keep that promise. But when I got to the office at 4:55 p.m., they told me Miss Bowling had left just before I got there.

So I spent nearly an hour talking to Mr. Miller, a 56-year-old native of Manchester who was quite helpful in understanding the community, the people and what little can be learned about the Sparkman murder investigation.

After we'd done talking, Mr. Miller introduced me to one of his young advertising reps, who lives in the vicinity of the cemetery where Sparkman's body was found. Would she lead me up there? No way. Uh-uh. Too scary up there.

If you want to speculate about anything, ponder this: Sparkman lived in London, Ky., in neighboring Laurel County, more than 30 miles east of where his body was found, with his truck parked near the end of the the dead-end road leading up to that cemetery.

Did Sparkman arrange a meeting up there with the person who killed him? If so, why? And if not . . .?

Tomorrow -- actually, today, since it's now past midnight and already Tuesday -- I'll have time to clear up some of the specifics about the timeline on this case that aren't yet clear to me. When and where was Sparkman last seen alive? It seems he disappeared a few days before his body was found near sundown, Saturday Sept. 12. My understanding of the coroner's report is that he was killed late Sept. 10 or early Sept. 11.

Given the 30-mile distance between his London home and that cemetery, either Sparkman drove himself there or, perhaps, he was bound and gagged somewhere else, and driven there in his own truck by the person or persons who killed him. And how did that person (or those persons) leave the cemetery? If there were more than one killer, then perhaps one of them drove Sparkman's truck and an accomplce (or accomplices) followed in another vehicle. If there was more than one person involved in Sparkman's murder, then each of the perpetrators has to be worried that his accomplice(s) will rat him out if he gets caught.

So you've got to figure that the investigators are constructing a timeline of their own, trying to narrow down the possibilities. At some point, Sparkman's truck traveled that 30 miles from London to the cemetery, and if they can figure out exactly when that last ride happened . . .

Well, that's a job for the police, not a journalist. Extreme exhaustion takes its toll, and I was just sending e-mails to Wlady, asking him to correct some typos in the American Spectator story I filed at 11:45 p.m. Monday, having gotten three hours' sleep in the past 36 hours. But here are a few typo-free paragraphs:

What is striking to a first-time visitor to this region is the vast distance between the media perception and the reality.
At the London exit off I-75, there is a Starbucks, that ubiquitous symbol of 21st-century American civilization. Drive west for 20 minutes, and the parkway exit at Manchester is surrounded by other all-American enterprises like Wal-Mart, McDonald's, Subway and Wendy's. Teenage boys hang around the shopping center near the Family Dollar store after school, riding their skateboards on the sidewalk.
Yesterday, I ate supper at the Pizza Hut in Manchester, where people were clearly more concerned about the Clay County High School football team -- "Once A Tiger, Always A Tiger," the waitress's T-shirt declared -- than with "anti-government sentiment."
When police finally make an arrest in Sparkman's death, the suspect will be considered innocent until proven guilty. Shouldn't the same be true for the rest of Clay County?

Read the whole thing. I'll be up early Tuesday and back on the job.

Insightful Tweet

AlinskyDefeater:

If you hear this from Obama, "I have no interest in..." He's going to do whatever follows those words.

Maybe the health care debate just needs a bit of refreshment

by Smitty

"Driving the industry" of your country is something that should be done with a fully sober head. As one Calculus professor I had back in the day was fond of saying: "Don't drink and park: accidents cause people."

This blog maintains that dispassionate review of the Constitution and those pesky funding details will lead the Congress to legislation that won't be the source of weeping and gnashing of teeth in the decades out.

On a related note, one hopes that Stacy isn't too distracted while he's on assignment, Iff yu knoo wha I meee.

Live from Kentucky!

Sorry for the delay with the update, but I got to Manchester, interviewed a few sources to get some background on the Sparkman murder case and had dinner at Pizza Hut.

Yes, they have a Pizza Hut in Manchester, Ky. In case you're one of those people who thought Deliverance was a documentary, I've got news for you: Clay County is not nearly as backwards as the MSM would have you believe, as I told Jimmie Bise at Sundries Shack:

"The idea that they're sitting around festering with 'right wing populism' and whatever Andrew Sullivan said was going on here . . . is so far removed from the reality of the place."

Oh, yeah: The hotel in town has an indoor swimming pool.

Well, I've got a midnight deadline for the American Spectator, and then must try to get some sleep, but now that I'm on a Wi-Fi hookup (Sully: "They have Wi-Fi in Kentucky?") you can expect regular updates. And tomorrow, I might even have a little Rule 5 surprise for you.

Sparkman case update: Kentucky-bound

FAIRMONT, W.Va. -- Stopped here and hopped on the computer in a motel lobby, to file a quick report on my progress en route to Clay County, Ky., and give you an update on the latest headlines surrounding the murder of Bill Sparkman.

First, speculation about the motive for the killing of Sparkman, a 51-year-old part-time Census worker, continues. Roger Hedgecock's WorldNetDaily column:

Last week, Sparkman's death became fodder for more attacks on "right-wing violence." Bloggers wanted to "send the body to Glenn Beck," and a Time magazine piece speculated that Sparkman was a victim of the culture of another McCain-voting Southern state
Now it looks more like Sparkman was yet another victim of illegal drug operations on national forest land, and possibly also a victim of our still open border with Mexico.

Mexicans? In Clay County, Kentucky? Is there a "Little Tijuana" neighborhood down in Manchester? I expect to be there before suppertime, so we'll wait and see about that angle. The case is making headlines as far away as Scotland, where Andrew Purcell of the Herald writes:

The death is fuelling speculation he was killed simply because he worked for the federal government – now the target of a wave of hate from extreme right-wingers. . . .
Dave Breyer, of the regional FBI field office in Louisville, sought to play down assumptions a violent dislike of bureaucratic interference could have motivated the killer.
"I think to give this impression he was strung up because he was a federal employee is giving a bad impression to the nation," he said. . . .
Carl Greene, a reporter at [the Corbin, Ky.] Times-Tribune, said it was just as likely Sparkman stumbled upon a drug operation. "The mountain people grow a lot of marijuana," he said. "There are methamphetamine labs there. The place has gotten a reputation. It is an area where the law is sometimes ignored."

Ah, so according to Purcell, the killers are either (a) right-wing extremists or (b) dope gangs. And then there's Dan Riehl's theory, but no need to go into that just now. The main reason I want to see Clay County for myself is summed up by this Associated Press article in the Louisville Courier-Journal:

Positive news stories about Clay County don't come often.
When it comes to national news, the rural county about 170 miles southeast of Louisville seems to be a magnet for negative headlines. And to some local residents, the recent discovery of the body of U.S. census worker Bill Sparkman is just the latest blemish. . . .
"It makes us all seem like idiots that do anything they can do to make money," said Freda Collins, 41, of the Burning Springs community near Manchester. "You feel embarrassed for one thing. You get to the point where you don't want to tell anyone where you're from because of the stereotypes. But what can you do?"

Indeed. Well, I'm coming down there to report facts, not stereotypes. Assuming that Clay County is not entirely populated by moonshiners, meth cookers, Mexicans, marijuana growers and militia extremists, I hope to provide a more balanced perspective on this rural community.

Ask yourself this: How many murders happen in Washington, D.C., every year? So how come this one murder -- because it happened in Appalachia -- has generated such lurid speculation?

Hang on, Freda Collins. Just another 390 miles to go today, and I should be there by nightfall. As for the rest of y'all -- hit the tip jar.

I can scavenge pretty well when I have to. They serve a free continental breakfast here at this motel, and everybody evidently assumes I'm a guest, even though I just pulled off the I-79 exit and walked in the door. But professional journalism savvy like that will only get me so far . . . hit the tip jar.

OK, a quick trip to the men's room, refill my coffee and grab another donut from the continental breakfast buffet, and then I'm back on the road.

UPDATE: 9:55 a.m.: Just got off the phone with Trooper First Class Don Trosper of the Kentucky State Police, official spokesman for the investigation. Asked if he had any concern over Internet chatter about the Sparkman case, Trooper Trosper said: "It's just speculation and rumors. . . . We concern ourselves with facts."

Fear & Loathing at Ragged Rock Ridge

We were a few miles out of Sperryville, doing 90 mph along State Route 231, when the acid kicked in . . .

The American Spectator's Annual Pig Roast at Al Regnery's rural estate, nestled among the Virginia foothills of the Blue Ridge, has become notorious as a scene of wicked right-wing depravity. Imagine an event that mixes the worst elements of Haight-Ashbury during the summer of '67, imperial Rome during the reign of Nero, and the infield at the Talladega 500.

Exactly what they do to that pig before it's roasted . . . well, Al doesn't need a bunch of PETA pests protesting next year's event, so I'll leave that part to your twisted imagination.

Among the non-porcine delicacies available, this year's event featured Virginia's own Wasmund's Single Malt Whiskey, of which I tasted a mere half-teaspoon, having sworn off strong spirits after the infamous 2000 Christmas party at Ralph and Millie's.

As usual, the firing range was open, with a choice of firearms and free ammunition for those who forgot to bring their own ordnance. (I fired four rounds from a .40 semi-auto pistol before it jammed. I cleared the jam and handed the pistol back to the rangemaster. "Oh, you can fire more," he said, to which I replied, "Nah. That's fine. I just wanted to be able to say I did it.")

Alcohol, firearms -- oh, almost forgot the tobacco. Richard Miniter, editorial page editor of The Washington Times, was smoking thick black Dominican cigars. But that's not exactly what you'd call "news." No one's seen Rich without a cigar since fourth grade.

Rumors that shortly before sunset I was seen hot-dogging a Yamaha quadrunner up the mountainside at full speed are neither confirmed nor denied.

Road Rage and Earlier Departures
Blog buddies Smitty and Track-A-'Crat had been invited as my guests. They arrived about 3 p.m., but for some strange reason skipped out before five o'clock. However, I didn't know this, because Ragged Rock Ridge is at least 20 miles from the nearest place you can get cell-phone reception.

My own arrival had been unfortunately delayed by a long detour when a Virginia State Trooper blue-lighted me near Front Royal. Most folks would give at least 5-to-1 odds against outrunning a high-performance Crown Vic in a 2004 KIA Optima, but it's not about the car, it's about the driver, and if I'm doing 110 mph and he's coming off a dead start . . .

Well, you do the math. At any rate, when I showed up about 5:30 p.m., the boom-boom-boom from the firing range was so heavy, I thought somebody had accidentally lit the fireworks finale before it got dark. (No fireworks, Al? If I live to see next year's event, we'll do something about that.)

Just as I was getting out of my car, legendary conservative fundraiser Richard Viguerie's big Lincoln Continental came rolling down the muddy driveway, and I signalled him to lower his window. From what Viguerie told me in our brief conversation, I gathered that the proceedings had already descended into the customary bacchanalia, and Viguerie was probably wise to leave before the scene got too weird.

This may explain the early departure of my blogger guests. The annual Pig Roast is not for the faint of heart. Spectator staffers are the most hard-partying bunch of outlaws in the D.C. press corps, and the Pig Roast is for them what the '65 Labor Day run to Monterrey was for the Hell's Angels.

Hannibal Lecter Sends His Regrets
Perhaps I should have warned my guests about the intensity of the Pig Roast experience. When I called Smitty later, he didn't answer; probably too traumatized by the frenzied madness that occurs once every September up on that hill. Folks around Sperryville won't go anywhere near the place at Pig Roast time, what with the rumors of cannibalism, human sacrifice, bizarre pagan rituals and so forth.

Wherever you find guns, cigars and whiskey, good-looking womenfolk are sure to be flocking 'round, and I had my camera handy for the occasion. Of course, most of those photos won't ever see the light of day. At least let's hope it never comes to that. "Extortion" has a very narrow legal definition, and my Samoan attorney is perhaps overzealous in pursuing libel actions. At any rate, out of several dozen pictures taken at the Pig Roast, here are the tiny handful of photos that don't actually show anything illegal, immoral or unethical.

New York conservative activist Nina Rosenwald and Spectator editor-in-chief R. Emmett Tyrrell, Jr. Although you can't actually see anything unethical in this photo, not all conflicts of interest can be proven photographically.

Spectator advertising manager Catherine Ruddy is single and, even with Virginia's finest single malt available, still prefers white wine. Call 703-807-2011 to place an ad or propose marriage.

Wlady Pleszczynski, babe magnet and editorial director of the Spectator, fends off unwanted advances from the magazine's advertising manager. Wlady handles all letters-to-the-editor, and has been known to reply to letters of complaint with a brief note informing the complainers that he's already reported them to the FBI.

Kerry Picket of The Washington Times and W. James Antle III, associate editor of the Spectator. Notice the Sig Sauer 9-mm semi-auto holstered on Kerry's right hip. Notice the insane fear in Jim's eyes.

Audrey Regnery, myself, James Taranto of the Wall Street Journal, and Alfred S. Regnery, the Pig Roast host and publisher of the Spectator. If Taranto looks like he's had a bit too much of the Wasmund's Single Malt, you should have seen him earlier, when he was reportedly skinny-dipping in Al's catfish pond.

As we were departing the event, Taranto's car was ahead of my KIA on the narrow dirt road, until I pulled a Dale Earnhart move, passed him on a blind curve and left him eating my dust. He ain't been linking me enough lately . . .

Well, I'm off to Kentucky to cover the Sparkman murder, about which Dan Riehl offers his own speculation. Looks like I'm running a bit late, if I want to be filing datelines from Clay County by noon, so I'll probably have to make the run at full speed. If any of those Virginia troopers along I-81 want to try their luck again, we'll see if they can catch the KIA.

Maybe I'll be a tad late getting to Manchester, Ky., but don't worry. Probably just another high-speed detour along the backroads. HTTJYUB.

Supporting Rio is a Rule 5 imperative

by Smitty (h/t HillBuzz)

You know the POTUS isn't getting much love when people are supporting taking the 2016 Olypmics to Rio as a matter of recreational spite.

This blog thinks that Rio is a Rule 5 extravaganza, even if whoever owns the rights is too mean to support embedding.

The Wikipedia page on the song is interesting, as well. We learn that one of models in the video is "Reema". Anyone with contact info, please tell her to contact this blog for a proper interview.

Remember, class: it is possible to be all Rule 5 while Opposing the Man.

The Radical Present Tense

by Smitty

Morgan Freeberg brings one of those back-burner thoughts to the front of the stove:

You might say "In times like these, we have to pull together and nobody can make a profit providing a service so essential to the rest of us." You would not say "Because it’s Tuesday and my butt itches, we have to pull together and nobody can make a profit providing this service." With the latter, even a flaccid mind would immediately recognize — duh, hey wait a minute...if the service is so essential, how do we make sure it continues to be provided if nobody can make a profit providing it? But "In times like these" goes over like Free Ice Cream night in Hell. Why yes! That makes perfect sense!

But it isn't confined to socialism. All stupid ideas benefit from the "Times Like These" cliche. It's like covering a turd in a chocolate-crusty coating.

When creating various advertising and propaganda, there seems to be a drive to narrow the focus of thought in the audience. All is emotional, all is now. Fear and the unknown loom.

"In times like these" seems both to allude to prior, similar times, and to retire them from consideration. You know, "these times". You wouldn't want to look dumb in public by asking "To what specific time to you refer?" of the speaker. That would be rude. Everyone else is shaking their heads knowingly.

"In times like these" implies knowledge of these times, and sufficient analysis to know what must be done. It builds trust. Whatever the speaker is saying must be done is probably a good idea. We really don't need to fret the future. We can trust the person, right?

Let's look at an example from BHO, emphasis mine:

Now, like all of you, my responsibility is to act in the interest of my nation and my people, and I will never apologize for defending those interests. But it is my deeply held belief that in the year 2009 -- more than at any point in human history -- the interests of nations and peoples are shared. The religious convictions that we hold in our hearts can forge new bonds among people, or they can tear us apart. The technology we harness can light the path to peace, or forever darken it. The energy we use can sustain our planet, or destroy it. What happens to the hope of a single child -- anywhere -- can enrich our world, or impoverish it.

How on earth, one wonders, was this conclusion reached? "Any point", we are told. Clearly we are in the presence of omniscience.

How about a more stylized approach to the BHO passage?

Me, Moe Lane and Malkin vs. the MSM: The Media Elite's Strange Priorities and Misallocation of Scarce Resources

"I don’t actually want to see newspapers go away, seeing as they’ve got structural advantages on news gathering that I envy. Like actual budgets: when someone like Robert Stacy McCain decides that he’s going to go down to Kentucky and cover the Bill Sparkman murder, he has to shake the tip jar, write a few posts highlighting the issue, and hope that somebody comes through for his expenses. The equivalent NYT editor simply calls up the relevant department and has somebody set it up. The ability to follow stories that easily is a powerful ability; would that the NYT was willing to take advantage of it.
-- Moe Lane of Red State

My good friend Moe (we're like this, Moe and me) was addressing Michelle Malkin's criticism of the New York Times, criticism that might be applied more generally to all the elite media.

Speaking of which, if the NYT desires a token conservative presence on its op-ed page, why hire another "meritocrat" pundit like Ross Douthat, who can't be bothered to pick up a phone, much less get in his car and go talk to sources in person?

The NYT would have done much better to (a) spend that money on actual reporting, and (b) fill the designated "conservative" spot on its op-ed page with rotating freelance submissions from actual conservatives. You know: People like Michelle Malkin, Mark Levin, Ann Coulter, Mark Steyn, Mary Katharine Ham, Rush Limbaugh . . .

Yet the same criticism about misallocation of resources might be extended far beyond the Times building on West 43 Street, to encompass much of the blogosphere and even the conservative movement. My good friend J.P. Friere, formerly of The American Spectator and now with the Washington Examiner, likes to say that conservatives don't need more Bill Buckleys, we need more Bob Novaks, and he's right. (Although Hannah Giles in a thong is a lot easier on the eyes than Novak ever was.)

Nowadays, every 22-year-old with a laptop and a Wordpress account wants to play the pundit, give us The Big Picture, and lecture us with their own ill-informed answers to that eternal question, "Whither Conservatism?"

Here's your answer: Shut up, kid, I've got T-shirts older than you.

Today, down in rural Virginia, Al Regnery's throwing a big barbecue. All the big shots will be there and I'm invited. I'll be running late, and I'm worried about what economists call the opportunity costs of attending the annual shindig, rather than staying here to work, work, work.

There's only one of me and I'm a freelancer. I don't have an AmEx card for travel expenses like the big shots at the networks do. It takes a couple of business days for PayPal transactions to be processed, and until that tip-jar cash clears the bank, I'll be pushing it to the limit just to get to Clay County, Kentucky, by Monday, and only hope I can avoid my checks don't start bouncing before those payments clear.

Meanwhile, I've promised the American Spectator a column that's already half-written and has to be turned in before I try to get some sleep, then depart before dawn in my 2004 KIA, so I can try to file something -- at least a brief report -- with a Kentucky dateline by noon Monday. Never mind that we're a one-car household and my wife's steamed because she'll have to improvise her own transportation for a few days. (A rental car might cost $60 a day, nudge, nudge.)

Considering all my disadvantages, then, perhaps you understand my resentment of the media elite's overprivileged journalistic inertia. When I think of the elite, with their Harvard educations and their fat salaries, sitting around pontificating about the Big Picture . . . well, I'm not ashamed to rattle the tip jar, because I think I'm not the only one who's sick and tired of the MSM's better-than-thou attitude.

When I started blogging full-time in March 2008, it was only a time-waster between freelance gigs. Also, I had at least one prospect for a staff position at a publication I won't name. But then those guys started jerking me around, asking me to contribute some freelance work for them, just as a kind of tryout.

Screw that. As if I couldn't hustle up freelance opportunities without trying out for a job like some unknown grass-green rookie. I'd rather freelance for the Spectator and Pajamas Media -- people who treat me with some respect and appreciate my efforts.

So, as always when faced with such a problem, I asked myself: What Would Hunter S. Thompson Do?

Double down. Bet on myself. Spend out my 401(k) to pay the bills until I could turn this crazy gonzo thing into a revenue stream sufficient to establish my financial independence. And then, next time they're looking to hire an award-winning journalist with more than two decades of newspaper experience who also does HTML and digital photography, knows his way around the blogosphere and Web 2.0, has mad skilz with Final Cut Pro and PhotoShop, my answer will be a question:

"What's it worth to you, buddy? If you want me, do you want me with or without that blog where I can say anything that crosses my mind? Do you want me to give up that wild fun and all those loyal tip-jar hitters, or do you want me to bring them along with me? I can go either way here, but I've got to know if you're serious about wanting me, because a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. You're not going to push me around like some kid fresh out of J-school. Been there, done that, ain't going back for more. But I'm a reasonable man, and am willing to entertain any reasonable offers. So give me a number here, and I'll tell you whether it's too low. I write for money."

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. And things are looking pretty weird right about now. My wife's worried sick about the bills. She's also worried sick about me getting into trouble in Kentucky, but I told her it's nothing. If they'd didn't kill me in Kampala, they won't kill me in Clay County.

BTW, I just got off the phone with Track-a-'Crat, who seems to be coming down with Appalachian Swine Flu. He's got all the symptoms, so he'll probably be too sick to go to his day-job Monday. He'll have to be rushed to see a specialist, and I told him I know just the man to see: The world-renowned Dr. Raoul Duke of Louisville, Ky.

Rent a convertive, Track-a-'Crat, and leave the rest to me. Sometimes, the cure for Appalachian Swine Flu is worse than the disease . . .

Just keep hitting that tip jar, you ungrateful bastards. Baby, it's about to be showtime!

They haven't captured Bin Laden, but . . .

. . . why not start with the small fry?

ZURICH – Director Roman Polanski was arrested by Swiss police for possible extradition to the United States for having sex in 1977 with a 13-year-old girl, authorities said Sunday.
Polanski was flying in to receive an honorary award at the Zurich Film Festival when he was apprehended Saturday at the airport, the Swiss Justice Ministry said in a statement. It said U.S. authorities have sought the arrest of the 76-year-old around the world since 2005.
"There was a valid arrest request and we knew when he was coming," ministry spokesman Guido Balmer told The Associated Press. "That's why he was taken into custody." . . .

Thanks to Joe the Commenter for the tip. We await condemnation of "Swiss populism" from Andrew Sullivan.

Rule 5 Sunday

by Smitty

Ah, the Rule 5 Sunday post, always a fine dessert after the meat and potatoes of the FMJRA, and a fine escape from the gravity of regular blogging.

This week, R5S has an exclusive, as part of our shameless support of Day by Day Cartoon . When Chris Muir delivered the goods for the support offered back in July, I was delighted and pleased to see my prints were numbered 1/340. Mr. Muir verified that, indeed, I'd been first pig to the trough, and was gracious enough to allow me to post some of the prints on line, on the condition that they not be at our usual, scrunched, postage stamp rate. Also, these are slightly, though tastefully, above our usual PG-13 rating at R5S.

Rule 5 Sunday proudly presents: "Sam Stars".

[I should note that, rather than having the artwork suffer my scanner, Mr. Muir provided additional versions for this use, and the 1/340 number of which I'm so inordinately proud isn't on display here.]

And now, back to our usual shenanigans.

• The Conservative Shemale leads off and has a couple of posts up for consideration, including Daniel Craig, Denise, and Jordana Brewster.
• Chad at KURU suggests Anyssa, but also Natalie Martinez.
• DaTech Guy seems worried that Martha Raye might be deemed an odd submission. This is posted as a rather subtle form of advertising for a book written by a veteran whom DaTech Guy knows. Rule 5 Sunday has high standards, and simply refuses to be rooked into becoming an advertising vehicle for anyone, even someone who served their country honorably for 30 years in the military. Oh, wait...
• Indentured Servant Girl "Saint Peter, don't you call me, 'cause I can't go; I owe my soul to the student loan co." has some cheesecake pinups, as well as a Marylin Monroe moment. This looks like a legitimate site. I will confess to some minor worry that the Troglopundit is going to set up "TalesOfTheLeatherAlbinoNun.wordpress.com" just to see if I'll link him. He's edgy like that.
• SondraK Can't Believe it's not Butter. For certain mostly-chocolate values of butter, it could pass. SondraK is even further out here, which is absolutely not an encouragement to Troglopundit.
• Trog continues to amaze, with his denials of Rule 5 addiction so blatantly contradicted by his postings. This week we have Danica Patrick, Kristin Chenoweth, his ten best pickup lines (for crushed values of 'best'), and redhead without a bald spot.
• The Huffer had a bunch of celebrity airhead award show dresses. We blew off the award show, but we're sufficient content sluts to drop these URLs like they were expensive legislation: without a second thought.
  
  • Olivia Wilde
  • Padma Lakshmi
  • Blake Lively and Leighton Meester
  • Sarah "'Stache" Silverman
  • Zandile Blay rounding up.
• Recent arrival Honesty in Motion rounds up Chyler Leigh like an old pro.
• Yankee Phil brings news of the Khloe Krdashian nuptials.
• HotMES brings news of a charity senior citizen male calendar that might make just the right gift for that dowager aunt. Neither HotMES nor Stacy has denied his presence in this product. In more traditional Rule 5 mode, she brings Vanessa Marcil
• Morgan Freeberg appears to be gathering steam as he nears mid-alphabet, suggesting Gemma Atkinson and Holly Weber this time.
• Instapundit knows Capitalist Chicks.
• Three Beers Later rebuts Instapundit with a link you should leave unclicked. Then there is a selection of beauty queens through the years. He thinks he's got an answer in the eternal beer/wine argument. Finally, he thinks he's discovered that Hannah Giles is really...
• Dustbury brings Helen Parr and her alter ego.
• Rightofcourse plays the VA Tech cheerleader card with both deftness and flair.
• The Classic Liberal did something I thought un-possible: a Britney Spears Rule 5 essay that works. Fantastic.
• The urbane and genteel, yet un-snobbish, Paco brings Lena Horne
• WyBlog posts a bikini barista roundup that I may have seen before, but I'm willing to fake ignorance over in the name of attaining certainty.
• Nation of Cowards continues the patriotic bikini tradition.
• Jeffords, whose concerns range to the crushing economic situation, wishes to help Kristin Chenoweth locate employment.
• Muchow gives us a bit of salsa with some Rule 5 in motion. Which makes me wonder why I'm not including Fausta's tango postings. I blame the lobotomy.
• Belevedere continues to vie with Troglopundit for fanatical Rule 5 devotion. Chicks with rifles, artists renditions of Hannah Giles with a chainsaw, Goldie Hawn, Tina Louise: Belevedere must be a double-triathlete to chase 'em like that.
• VodkaPundit lives on the edge of linkability with his NSFW Bo Derek roundup. Buth when you've go The Week in Blogs and Hair of the Dog on PJTV, you too can live the edgy life.

That's your Rule 5 rap. Email updates to Smitty. Peace, out.

We seem to be forgetting something

by Smitty (h/t Jihad Watch)

Obama On Iran: "I'm not interested in victory. I'm interested in resolving the problem."

I'm playing the Moral Clarity Card on this one:

"All right now, you sunsabitches, you know how I feel."

'I blame Robert Stacy McCain'

That was the phrase once commonly heard in The Washington Times newsroom, where I was the designated scapegoat from November 1997 to January 2008, but now it's been adopted as a credo by Adrienne's Catholic Corner.

Yo, Adrienne -- I think the Pope wants you to help me get to Kentucky. (The Pope was going to send Sully, but he's too busy in Thailand.)