"Will Blog for Food"

When I showed up at Plamehouse for the first time, I carried a sign that said "Will Blog for Food." Little did I know how ironic this would turn out to be.

I've been thinking about the support structures that we need as our political involvement becomes more complex.

I trust you have read my post on Plamehouse where I had to beg them to consider eating, and finally take action on my own. After about an hour of hinting about dinner, including putting a sign saying WE NEED FOOD in front of Jane and Marcy, I had to take action myself and go forth in search of pizza.

Today I watched people laying utility lines for some unknown future near my house. Investing in capacity for future use.

My own aha moment came when ordering another AC adapter and power plug for my laptop. I'm frequently running from room to room, one where I often work, the other where I sometimes work and where the electric connections exist.

What I thot I was doing was ordering was a spare set for keeping in my travel bag, to save time and mental energy when packing for my frequent trips. Just as I was about to push "order" I had the idea---get another set. For the other room here. So for a small additional amount I have solved the running back and forth problem. I can now work and post from either room.

We need to think about administrative support, and it can be as elemental as feeding Jane and Marcy in DC. How can we put together the people who must work to the exclusion of thinking about things like food with the people who want to support that work.

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Plamehouse! So...I'm the cook?

One of the funny things about Plamehouse is while it may be a Vonnegutian karass, it is not a well-ordered home.

Upon my arrival for the blowout Verdict Party yesterday, I took inventory: two over the top giddy bloggers---Hamsher and Wheeler; one enormous bottle of wine from looseheadprop; one regular bottle of wine; and not a damn thing to eat. I mean not a granola bar. Not a cracker.

Open the refrigerator, absolutely nothing. I've seen more food in bachelor apartments. What did these people have for lunch? Turns out neither had lunch. What about breakfast? One of them had no breakfast. [Wait, didn't Jane blog about coffee and pastry at the courthouse? Historians want to know these things. Maybe I’m remembering one of the Stoller DQ crowd who had no breakfast. In any case absolutely no one was interesting in procuring food.]

For the next couple of hours, we drank a wee toast or two to our combined efforts to make the law apply to the high as well as the low. It's been a long time working to understand the details of a complicated legal case. Finally: success. A toast to the hardworking bloggers. A toast to Fitzgerald and team. A toast to the faerie godmother.

I'm the daughter of a city prosecutor, who died exactly 17 years ago as of the verdict. I like to think he is looking down from heaven with a smile on his face. One of his HLS classmates, Kleindienst, was declared guilty in Watergate. He thought this was justice indeed, for the fellow showed up the last day of their group project and just signed his name. My father debated the real Paper Chase professor, Eddie Morgan, until the end of the class, leading to applause for this unusual feat. Should I wonder why my son can argue circles around me?

Perhaps I am just carrying on family tradition. In fact my Republican mother worked for the Boston law firm that took down McCarthy in the early 50's. She worked to register "Negroes" for the vote in the 40's and was surprised to learn that a woman could be fired as soon as she got married.

My mother left the work world when it was time for children, first my brother who died at age 3 hours, right in the middle of law school exams. Then a year later, me, who lived HOORAY! then my 3 sisters and 3 brothers. And you wonder why I work to save the lives of infants. So for the next 30 years my mother cooked three meals a day, tired or not. I felt this was a kind of slave labor and rebelled against this. For my own children, I only cooked them three meals a day until they got to the teen years, and then looked for relief.

So I had to laugh when I realized that these two blogger and media superstars were too absorbed in Verdict Euphoria to deal with such a mundane matter as food. And I, the feminist since 1968, the one who tried desperately to escape the cooking role near the end of my 15 years of full-time motherhood, here I was the one who was going to have to come up with some food.

So I walked out into the unseasonable cold and braved the two city blocks between Plamehouse and a rather decent pizza place. The two pizzas I brought back were the only food available until much later in the evening, when Pach and Stoller and other assorted lovely people assembled for a restaurant excursion. Since I had been up since bolting awake at 5am in verdict mania, it was time for me to sleep.

How I can contribute to the first feminist uprising: refuse to be the only cook. How I can contribute to this political upheaval: be the cook. We live not for ourselves alone.

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Guilty Guilty Guilty Guilty

History in the making. Libby is found guilty in 4 of the 5 charges. Successful: obstruction of justice, perjury in front of the grand jury, and lying to the FBI.

It was a great privilege to be one of the first few citizen journalists ever to have official press credentials to cover a trial in federal court. My days were February 13, when Fitzgerald swiftly disposed of John Hannah's excuses, and March 2 during jury deliberations. It was fun to get to know the other media people better. Now when I watch the news I think, yeah, nice guy, met him last week :)

We had a party to celebrate at Plamehouse. I got to meet Pach and Stoller. Jane is off, and Marcy leaves today after her last radio gig. Everybody is elated but exhausted.

We enjoyed celebratory wine provided by looseheadprop.

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Fitzgerald's closing statement

History in the making.

Patrick Fitzgerald's closing in U.S. v. Libby, recorded by Marcy Wheeler, edited for spelling.

"DONT YOU THINK THE AMERICAN PEOPLE ARE ENTITLED TO ANSWERS? If as a result his [Wilson's] wife had a job, she worked at CPD, she gets dragged into newspapers. People want to find out was a law broken, people want to know, who did it. What role did Defendant play. What role did VP play? He told you he may have discussed this with VP. Don't you think FBI deserves straight answers? When you go in that jury room, your common sense will tell you that he made a gamble. He threw sand in the eyes of the FBI. He stole the truth of the judicial system. If you return guilty you give truth back."

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Fitzgerald, as recorded by Sidney Blumenthal of Salon. [I briefly sat next to him at the trial on February 13.]

"He stole the truth from the judicial system," Fitzgerald told the jury. "If you return a guilty verdict, you give the truth back."

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Comment by attorney looseheadprop on Fitzgerald's Opening Statement---

"It takes, all in one unified moment: nerves of steel, total humility, exquisitely nuanced taste/discretion, and a total belief in the “rightness” of the evidence to dare so simple and stark a presentation. It was like Shaker furniture, or the glistening perfection of a white marble Doric column. Weeks later, I am still blown away by it and cannot get it out of my head."

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Keep in mind that I was just an alternate who was available when one of our regulars missed a couple of days. This from commenter Sandia Blanca:

'I never realized adrenaline could be transmitted electronically, but today’s blogging brought thousands of us close to the pervasive power of JUSTICE! Fitz is my hero, and Jane, Christy, Marcy, Jeralyn, Swopa, Pachacutec, egregious, TRex, et al., are the picture window into this momentous trial.
We cannot thank you enough for the service you have done, and continue to do, for us and our nation. Now I’m tearing up (shades of Wells?). Thank you!!!! "

I was available for liveblogging but Marcy handled everything beautifully. So it was my privilege just to watch and add a few notes last Tuesday when Hannah testified Libby was a very busy man. I've been busy too but am pretty sure I would remember outing one of our nation's undercover assets. The press people in the courtoom tried not to laugh out loud when a juror question was read, if Libby forgets so much, can he really do his job as National Security Advisor?

Jury instructions tomorrow. We wait for justice.

The next Einstein

A comment by T- at firedoglake about Marcy Wheeler's new book gets me to thinking. T- says "This is a hell of an idea. All you redstaters: Call every single public library in your state and request this book. They are all right next to each other in the phone book. No excuses.

[opens THE cabinet looking for phone book and sh** falls out all over the place]"
end of T- comment

My response:
You sound like me. In my case both the creativity and the stuffed to overflowing cabinets are ADHD. Our creativity will save the world. If we can find what we need.

The idea and desire to contact every single library...that's ADHD. We can accomplish miracles, under the right working conditions. Getting the right working conditions, that's the bane of our existence. If you know somebody like this, brilliantly creative but disorganized to a ridiculous extreme, help them. You may be helping the next Einstein. Or at least the next egregious.

[My first use of colored text! ADHD-esque excitement.]