CommunityFDL Main Blog

Libby Live Blogging: Judy Miller’s Ghost



Today we'll have another round of juror selection.  I'll be live blogging the proceedings in the comments, but I just wanted to express my sympathies to the New York Times.  Judy Miller hacked into their site last night and posted a big wet kiss to Scooter Libby under Scott Shane's byline.  So sad.  Let go, Judy, let go.

Actually, while yesterday's coverage of voir dire across the establishment media spectrum seemed to be about the frequency of potential jurors under review who have strong negative feelings about the administration or the vice president, the defense is just as intent to sort out what exposure potential jurors have had to press coverage of the case.  While the stories I saw filed last night seemed to be of quite high and impressive quality, the totality of the coverage of the Libby case and the swirling currents behind it have not been well covered.  That's how we bloggers, actually, developed our legitimacy to cover this story, even here in the press room.

I may do a little more on the media issues surrounding this case and its coverage later, perhaps with my nightly review.  But for now, BANG! SWOOSH! GONG! It's time for live blogging.

First order of business today, and 9:00 AM EST, there's a closed courtroom session going on, though we are told to expect jury selection to resume, and closed circuit access to the preceedings to return, at 9:30 AM EST. 

Previous post

From Colbert to Rich Little

Next post



Pachacutec did not, as is commonly believed, die in 1471. To escape the tragic sight of his successors screwing up the Inca Empire he’d built, he fled east into the Amazon rain forest, where he began chewing lots of funky roots to get higher than Hunter Thompson ever dared. Oddly, these roots gave him not only a killer buzz, but also prolonged his life beyond what any other mortal has known, excluding Novakula. Whatever his doubts of the utility of living long enough to see old friends pop up in museums as mummies, or witness the bizarrely compelling spectacle of Katherine Harris, he’s learned a thing or two along the way. For one thing, he’s learned the importance of not letting morons run a country, having watched the Inca Empire suffer many civil wars requiring the eventual ruler to gain support from the priests and the national military. He now works during fleeting sober moments to build a vibrant progressive movement sufficiently strong and sustainable to drive a pointed stake through the heart of American “conservatism” forever. He enjoys a gay marriage, classic jazz and roots for the New York Mets.