Dear Joel,
Speaking of eros, I’m mourning the imminent fading-away of my favorite recent news story: the saga of Leo’s interview with the president. The most sensible thing anyone said about all this was Tabitha Soren’s (!) op-ed in the New York Times, arguing that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if a few more Young People paid attention to global warming as a result of Leo’s foray into journalism. It’s sort of funny watching the news division’s hysterical efforts to catch a horse (the Age of Murrow) that bolted from the barn a long time ago. Aren’t these the people who bring us “magazine” shows about Pet Detectives and Small Appliances That Kill? The preposterousness of the whole crisis is underlined by David Westin’s current position, which is that he probably won’t air any of the encounter. In order to vindicate his claim that this was never an actual interview, he’s now in the curious position of assuring the world that the only way he’ll run it is if it turns out to be total fluff; if it seems to have blundered into producing some interesting journalism, then he promises to bury it as unbefitting a major news division.
The only downside to this story is watching Bill Clinton enjoy it so much. But this morning I did feel the first little fingerling of sympathy I’ve felt for him in years, on reading the Post’s exclusive saying that Independent Counsel Robert W. Ray is still actively considering an indictment against Clinton once his term is over. He’s just hired six new lawyers and ratcheted up the budget. Now, I am one of the last people in America to forgive Clinton for his behavior of a few years back; I was still doggedly arguing for his impeachment long after everyone else at the dinner table had moved on. But even I found this morning’s story shocking. Let it go! You missed him! Get a life! What is it they put in the water coolers when they appoint independent counsels? I used to defend even the moist Kenneth Starr when he would talk about the importance of vindicating the rule of law. But there does seem to be some weird rectitude to which independent counsels fall prey, in which honor is almost indistinguishable from vanity. I used to think this had happened to Lawrence Walsh, the Iran-Contra counsel, because he was born in 1742; no wonder he was acting like the Ancient Mariner. But Ray is only 40. You know you’re down the rabbit hole when you read Ray’s explanation of how dragging this out further accords with the independent counsel’s charge to conduct and conclude his work promptly. He’s continuing until the president’s term is over because you can’t indict a sitting president without opening up a whole other can of worms. For this reason, Ray said, “By waiting, I am being prompt.” (There is no spoon.)
Joel, we have just passed an entirely Elián-free day here at the Breakfast Table. What’s to be done?
Best,
Marjorie
