smarter than I #5: Deep Throat edition

[a special welcome to readers of Shakespeare's Sister]



His scuffed brown oxfords tapped the concrete as he stood in the shadows of the dingy parking garage where we had agreed to meet. I was nervous, too, and hoped he didn't notice.

His voice surprised me--it was reedy and raspy, like a flute stuffed with jellybeans. "I got the goods," he said, the words echoing off graffiti and flaking paint. He struck a match and lit a cigarette, taking in two short puffs. I couldn't make out much in the darkness, just a glimpse of a paunch and a cheap suit. "Here," he said, tossing a manila envelope my way. "Take a look."

I opened it and pulled out the documents--memos, scrawled notes, newspaper clippings. Nothing scandalous, I thought, no smoking gun... and then I saw the printed emails.

I read aloud. "'Citizens of a democracy, we are taught, address their concerns and protest bad administrations and their dire policies on election days. We are polite and respectful as we register our dissent in quiet booths with drawn curtains. But maybe, just maybe, the pride we take in our civility will become our greatest shame.' Shameful civility? Who's calling for a shakeup?" I asked.

"Shakespeare's Sister," my anonymous source replied. "Got it on a hot tip from Jesse of differentia."

I rifled through another stack of rumpled printouts. "Who's this Mark Olson fellow?"

"Another tipster. He's a fan of ChicagoBoyz, recommended that I read Life on the Horizontal and Microeconomics and the OODA Loop. The first, by Ginny, praises individuality as a route to universality. The second, by Mitch Townsend, defines OODA and its putative relationship to microeconomics."

I read from the latter. "If you struggle to suppress your gag reflex, as I do, when you hear another military analogy applied to corporate life, you can relax." I felt bile rising, and returned my gaze to the emails.

"Wait, here's another from the City of the Big Shoulders, by Shannon Love: Lisa, the Post-Modernist Simpson. Seriously?"

"Read it," he said, flicking his cigarette butt aside and lighting another.

"It is hard to look at a character like Lisa Simpson and see the first multiplying cells of malignant political and social cancer... but that's what she is."

"You thought the cartoon was simple entertainment," he said, cigarette glowing in the shadows. "You thought wrong."

I skimmed over the horror movie Survival Kit sent by Brian from Denver, but was distracted by Caroline Compton's email about Oedipus Wrecks, Lance Mannion's psychoanalysis of Bush II. "'...everything George W. has done as President has been a slap in his father's face.' Harsh."

"Read it all before you pass judgment," my source retorted. "Go on."

"Liberal doom and gloom from John J. McKay of archy, I see. 'The last remaining check or balance will be those moderate Republicans willing to break party discipline and risk being cut off from re-election funds. The judiciary will take a hard swing to the radical right as openly ideological judges fill all the vacancies.' I never did understand the phrase 'radical right,' but never mind."

"Bora sent in another one," he said. "Something about rumination. Should be right under it."

"'...it would be nice if we all could see gossip when it happens, especially because sometimes the gossip is equated with political commentary, and this totally omits blogs which apply political science principles to wider events or which see politics in our daily lives. You know, like quite a few feminist blogs.' From Self-Obsessed Ruminations on Blogging. I'd like to see Echidne debate Ginny."

"Or maybe Pamela of Atlas Shrugs, who sent me this rant by Harvey of Bad Example."

I read it and smiled. "'You're SO wrong, Arianna. Good blogging IS good writing. You don't just toss off a steaming pile of unfinished thought-crap, call it good, and wait for Lady Fortune to kick in your door toting buckets full of gold coins.' This is good stuff, but I don't know if it's enough for a conviction."

I noticed my own emails in the stack. "You've printed out my correspondence," I said. "Does it all fit into your connect-the-dots scheme?"

"Short answer? Yes. The Myers piece, The Burden of Bearing a Massive Penis, that was eye-opening to say the least. I had to sneak it through the company firewall. And that Theomorph character took Ratzinger to task. He plays with fire. I'm not that much of a risk-taker, if you haven't noticed." He stamped out his cigarette.

"This is all interesting, and just might help me finish this scoop of all scoops," I said, "But how do you put it all together? Activism, the Simpsons, cat hating, Arianna Huffington, oversized members, Cardinal Ratzinger... is it some grand conspiracy, deeper and more conspiratorial than we could possibly imagine?"

"Follow the links," he replied, disappearing into the shadows, his voice trailing into the darkness. "Just follow the links."






Thanks to everyone who contributed links and publicity for this edition. Up next, John of Locusts and Honey will host Smarter than I #6 on Monday, June 13. Send your entries to smarterthanI AT hotmail DOT com or use this handy form.

Previous editions:

statement of purpose
#1 at decorabilia
#2 at l'esprit d'escalier
#3 at Pseudo-Polymath
#4 at Science and Politics