Big shot litigator Martin Garbus blogs that he "represents Don Imus in a dispute with CBS."

Then unblogs it. But, so, this is interesting. Is Imus about to sue the pants off CBS? This will be amusing!

Garbus represented Lenny Bruce back in the 1960s.

The view from Route 10.

The Connecticut River, which draws the line between Vermont and New Hampshire, seen from the New Hampshire side.

"The event was disgraceful, so lame and mediocre that it is beyond parody."

That's Christopher Hitchens on why he walked out of the White House Correspondents’ Association dinner:

“It is impossible to decide which is more offensive: the president fawning over the press or the press fawning over the president. It expresses everything that the public means when they talk about inside-the-Beltway and access journalism.”

Mr. Hitchens didn’t storm out of the city. He stormed back to his house, where he co-hosted (along with fellow Vanity Fair contributor Todd Purdum and former Clinton aide Dee Dee Myers) the magazine’s post-dinner party, a much sought-after ticket.

Mr. Hitchens, a one-time pariah for his support of the Iraq invasion and his savaging of Mother Teresa, still serves as something of a social arbiter in Washington. And following the strange-bedfellows theme, Paul Wolfowitz, the embattled World Bank president, was chatting amiably in a roomful of journalists at Mr. Hitchens’ home.

Living like that, how do you stay outraged and sharp enough to know when other people are being lame and mediocre? So he's a "social arbiter," eh? Looking at him on TV, you'd think he was a social pariah. Funny how things are.

Shirking debates: "It’s wrong. It’s a way to shirk their responsibilities as full-fledged candidates."

So says Democratic Presidential candidate Bill Richardson, who, of course, needs more attention, and, I think, could best the other candidates in debate.

The other day, I turned on the radio in my car and heard someone discussing some important foreign policy issue, and I was impressed by his intelligence and expertise. After the segment ended, I was amazed to hear it was Bill Richardson. I hadn't been able to tell that I was listening to a presidential candidate.

But are the debate avoiders sleazy shirkers?

[A]ides to the major candidates have concluded that the sheer number of debate and forum demands combined with a sprawling field of candidates on both sides have made them more of a hindrance than a help, at least for now.

They are, the argument goes, time-consuming and money-burning obligations in which a candidate will realistically get perhaps eight minutes to lay out his views. That is because of the many candidates that are guaranteed to be on stage, since the field on both sides includes candidates that most voters — indeed, most political reporters — have probably never heard of.

In that kind of situation, the most likely way to stand out from the pack is to make a mistake.

The cost of participating in a debate? Days spent on preparation and travel to the often smaller cities where the forums are held. These obligations can take candidates out of states like Iowa and New Hampshire, with their culture of relatively small candidate-to-voter encounters, which presumably can be more valuable for candidate and voters alike.

It's easy to see why the candidates who already have the money and the limelight opt out. They are behaving rationally. The only way it will change is if they get a message that we are judging them harshly. Richardson is trying to frame debate avoidance as shirking responsibility. But since no one's paying attention to him, can he have any effect shaping public opinion?

And, really, do people want debates at this stage? Debates are incredibly tedious and annoying when there are a lot of candidates. The ones who know they don't have a chance -- like for example, in 2004, Al Sharpton and Dennis Kucinich -- can speak in an entirely different way from the "real" candidates. A debate between real and show candidates is not a level playing field. The show candidates can speak from the heart, swing wildly, and deliver zingers, while the real candidates must maintain somber decorum and make absolutely sure that not one phrase will look wrong taken out of context. It's no wonder the frontrunners won't go there.

A nicely written episode of "The Sopranos."

There was a fine new episode of "The Sopranos" last night, with two neatly paired stories.

Tony and Paulie go on a road trip. Yes, a reason is trumped up, but the idea is basically to get them on a road trip, where there's lots of comedy (beginning with Paulie packing and revealing his impressive collection of white slip-on shoes) and with that slowly accumulating feeling that something violent is about to wipe that smile off our face.

Meanwhile, Junior is in the cuckoo's nest and his counterpart is a guy named Carter (who is reminding us -- by strange accident -- of the Virginia Tech shooter, Seung-Hui Cho). This is the opposite of a road trip, as the patients are cooped up in room doing things like playing poker with white and red buttons (and Junior will be pissed off at you if you say you think "red buttons" is amusing). Here, too, we love the comedy even as we dread the impending violence.

Only one of the parallel stories ends in violence, though, and we end with Junior accepting the medication that "numbs him down" and Carmela accepting the $2000 Williams Sonoma espresso machine.

Driving all over the place in a bus to tell people to stop global warming.

No contradiction there!

Anyway, Laurie David and Sheryl Crow obviously think they are exceedingly delightful. They've snagged a lot of press in the last couple days and moved the global warming spotlight onto themselves and away from Al Gore. And I was getting so used to having all my concerns about global warming embodied in the carbon-sequestering body of Al Gore.

The Crow-David entity assumes we too think they are delightful. Here it is enthusing about its encounter with Karl Rove at the White House Correspondents Dinner:

At some point during his ramblings, we became heartbroken to think that the President of the United States and his top advisers have partially built a career on global warming not being real....

In his attempt to dismiss us, Mr. Rove turned to head toward his table, but as soon as he did so, Sheryl reached out to touch his arm. Karl swung around and spat, "Don't touch me." How hardened and removed from reality must a person be to refuse to be touched by Sheryl Crow?

Gah! They think the world should listen to them because they are -- they assume -- so terribly sexually attractive. Roll carbon-sequestering Al back in here please.

Unphased, Sheryl abruptly responded, "You can't speak to us like that, you work for us." Karl then quipped, "I don't work for you, I work for the American people." To which Sheryl promptly reminded him, "We are the American people."

We are the ones who make a brighter day....

I love the way Sheryl is "unphased." This woman is strong. She can deal with a man not yielding to her sexual power. She cares that much.

At that point Mr. Rove apparently decided he had had enough. Like a groundhog fearful of his own shadow, he scurried to his table in an attempt to hibernate for another year from his responsibility to address global warming.

When the groundhog retreats, it means there will be more winter. Not the best global warming simile, but at least you tried.

Drama aside, you would expect as an American citizen to be able to engage in a civil discussion with a public official. Instead, Mr. Rove was dismissive, condescending, and quite frankly a bully.

I'll leave it to you to look at this writing and infer who was dismissive, condescending, and a bully in this encounter.

ADDED: Don't like the way the Crow-David entity spelled "unphased"? Blame "Star Trek."

"He is the custodian of truth that can save the world—he is the 9/11 key master—the key to unlocking the truth."

So says 9/11 conspiracy theorist Kevin Barrett about William Rodriguez, who spoke at the University of Wisconsin yesterday. Rodriguez was a janitor at the World Trade Center, who, because he held one of the few master keys, helped save many people on 9/11. They say he was the last individual to make it out of one of the collapsing buildings alive.

At 8:46 a.m. he heard an explosion. “Boom!” Rodriguez imitated. He heard a man screaming “Explosion! Explosion!” from underneath. “I wanted to say a generator blew up. I thought it was a bomb.”

This piece of evidence may show explosives were used in accompaniment to the hijacked planes, he said. When the plane hit, “the walls cracked and the building shook.”...

Barrett said Rodriguez wrote to him, and wanted to visit to “set the record straight,” after the College Republicans hosted a 9/11 survivor in March and much of the talk surrounded Barrett’s conspiracy theories.

More here:

[He spoke of] his belief that explosives were detonated in the basement of the building, where he was that morning.

At 8:46 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2001, Rodriguez, who was two levels below ground, said he felt a large explosion that “pushed him upward into the air” seven seconds before the plane hit the building.

I'm sorry to see this heroic man become caught up in the conspiracy theory.

Home,

I'm.

How to dress your kids.

Not like this!



A very creepy shop window, in Woodstock, Vermont:



I can't remember what "poop" on the sweatshirt was supposed to mean. An acronym for something. Looking for "poop sweatshirt" on the internet, I found this and this.

Personally, I don't think children need to be dressed in a completely somber and dignified way, but, especially if they can't read, don't put words on them.

Getting snippy with Maureen Dowd...

... for writing "Running With Scissors" about John Edwards and his pricey haircuts.

"There is no love lost between Gore and Hillary. They don't think she can win and they're probably right."

So says some unnamed Gore aide. "If Gore runs, he's got a really good chance of getting the nomination. And he has a good chance of pulling off the election, too."

[S]ince Sen Kerry abandoned his presidential aspirations this year, many of his leading advisers have yet to align themselves with any of the other candidates.

They were expected to join the campaign of Sen Edwards, who was Sen Kerry's running mate last time.

The former aide, who has himself signed up with Sen Edwards, said: "The question is: where have all the Kerry people gone? The answer for most of them is nowhere. Now ask yourself why."

Interesting. I'd love to see Gore in the race myself. He's got more substance than those others, more weight. That is... oh... I mean...

James Carville, President Clinton's former strategy chief, suggested last week that Mr Gore, who has piled on the pounds, could shed weight over the summer to make himself more media-friendly for a White House run.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he lost 15lb or so," said Mr Carville. "And I think if people thought he could get us out of the mess we're in with Iraq, they wouldn't care how fat he is."

You know how Al Gore is always talking about his "carbon footprint" or whatever? Here's a calculation I'd like to see. Maybe somebody here can figure it out. How much is one's carbon footprint increased by the consumption of food? Isn't everyone who is overweight overconsuming? I'd like to see a number representing the environmental damage we do for each excess pound we carry.

And this is not just for the purpose of tweaking Gore (whom I kind of like!). It's a serious matter that's got to be at least at the level of leaving the wrong kind of light bulbs on when you're out of the room. Plus, it might help people lose weight if they could reenvision their problem in terms of environmental responsibility. And if you're going to say to me that it's bad to shame people into good behavior, then are you against all the other shaming we are subjected to about the environment?

UPDATE: I still don't have an answer on my "carbon footprint" science question, which I'm quite serious about. But in the comments dpb says "isn't all that fat he carries just a form of carbon sequestration?" Fascinating point! So fat people are carbon sequestrating devices. If lots of plants are grown to feed people, and they just bulk up and hold it all inside, that's good environmentalism. Sure, they may die from being fat, but as long as they are buried, they have removed the carbon permanently. Remember: No cremation!

But there are many other factors here. The production and transportation of food requires the burning of fuel. If you were to eat only the amount of food that would maintain your ideal weight, rather than the extra 1000 calories a day (or whatever) that you do eat, then there would be less fuel burnt to supply your habit of overeating. Also, if you weigh more, your car is consuming more fuel carrying you around. Fat people in cars has got to be as significant as incandescent light bulbs.

Do you think this is insensitive and in poor taste? Let's just call it an inconvenient truth.

"It’s become emotional for me. I just need it."

From a profile of "Daily Show" correspondent Rob Corddry, something I really identify with:

Always with him: ChapStick. It’s in my pocket right now. There’s one in my desk drawer, one in my bag, one in my car and a few in the dresser. Probably 15 have fallen behind my bed. It’s become emotional for me. I just need it.

So how many ChapSticks at a time do you buy and where do you stow them? How badly do you panic if you go on a trip and discover you've forgotten to pack one? Tell us how much you love ChapStick. And if you don't rely on ChapStick, what do you use?

I was at the Hood Museum at Dartmouth yesterday, and the whole top floor was given over to an exhibit about the Inuit. On one little film they were showing, an old Inuit woman, who lived in the traditional Inuit way, had a glistening emollient of some sort on her lips. I wonder what it was? It looked comfy. Maybe it was better than ChapStick. I'm willing to consider that there are superior alternatives. But what are they?

Is the federal government making us fat?

Michael Pollan thinks so. Consume his tasty logic:

Like most processed foods, the Twinkie is basically a clever arrangement of carbohydrates and fats teased out of corn, soybeans and wheat — three of the five commodity crops that the farm bill supports, to the tune of some $25 billion a year. (Rice and cotton are the others.) For the last several decades — indeed, for about as long as the American waistline has been ballooning — U.S. agricultural policy has been designed in such a way as to promote the overproduction of these five commodities, especially corn and soy.

That’s because the current farm bill helps commodity farmers by cutting them a check based on how many bushels they can grow, rather than, say, by supporting prices and limiting production, as farm bills once did. The result? A food system awash in added sugars (derived from corn) and added fats (derived mainly from soy), as well as dirt-cheap meat and milk (derived from both). By comparison, the farm bill does almost nothing to support farmers growing fresh produce. A result of these policy choices is on stark display in your supermarket, where the real price of fruits and vegetables between 1985 and 2000 increased by nearly 40 percent while the real price of soft drinks (a k a liquid corn) declined by 23 percent. The reason the least healthful calories in the supermarket are the cheapest is that those are the ones the farm bill encourages farmers to grow.

Well, at least when you get very fat and blame the federal government, you will have to grudge it a little thanks for the cheapness of the voluminous cotton sweat shirts and pants you will need.

"If the Great White Worm was back after nearly 20 years in hiding, what else might still be out there?"

The life of an oligochaetologist is not easy.

Solving the mystery of Clarence Thomas.

Here's a WaPo article by Kevin Merida and Michael A. Fletcher that's adapted from their new book "Supreme Discomfort: The Divided Soul of Clarence Thomas." They tell the story of Thomas's nephew, Mark Elliot Martin, who is serving a 30-year sentence for drug dealing. Thomas has custody of Martin's son, Mark Elliot Martin Jr.

When he began raising Mark -- Thomas has one adult son from a previous marriage -- he altered his Supreme Court schedule. He sent Mark to private schools, gave him extra homework to improve his math and reading, taught him to dribble with his left hand. And Mark responded. He excelled in school, became a Harry Potter fan and took up golf, and as a teenager he is comfortable around some of the most brilliant legal minds in the country.

Mark's father was another story. Thomas had tried desperately to reach him, without success. Though Martin was good with his hands and worked for a time repairing piers at a marina near Pin Point, he injured himself and lost that job. And because he was illiterate, according to his attorney, he had little means of supporting himself. He was on probation and out of work when his luck turned worse....

When the drug bust went down, Thomas was so disappointed that he offered no legal advice, no pep talk, nothing. Thomas's mother said he had tried in vain to help his nephew many times. " 'Mark, please, you got them pretty little kids. Please,' " she recalled her son pleading. But Thomas couldn't get through, and now he really was through.

This time, Uncle Clarence just kept his distance. And his sister, Emma Mae Martin, didn't say a word, "just left it alone," as she put it. She didn't even ask her well-connected brother for help. "Nope, nope, no, no," she said emphatically, signaling the strain in their relationship. "He didn't want to get involved anyway," she added....

Thomas is not popular among the other inmates, the nephew [said in an interview]...

"They always asking, 'Why he ain't got you out of this stuff?'"

And so it goes. The book is based on interviews from family and others, but not Thomas himself, who declined to talk to the authors. So we must endure grudging commentary like that from the nephew or this, from Thomas's sister:

Emma Mae Martin, who was once publicly singled out by her brother as an example of the debilitating effects of welfare dependency, is a high school dropout who later earned her diploma in night school as an adult. She and her brother don't talk politics or law or philosophy. Their conversations tend to be about, "well, not much really," Martin said. "Find out how I'm doing, what I'm up to, that's about it."

She lives her life and lets him be. "He's supposed to be a judge," she said, "but you can't judge anybody unless you judge yourself. I've never judged anybody, but people judge me all the time."

And here's Thomas's mother:

Her favorite son was Myers Thomas, Clarence's younger brother, who died in 2000 of a heart attack suffered during a morning jog. "Myers was the kindest-hearted one," she said. He called often, came to visit when she was lonely, took her for rides. "I had more dealing with Myers," she explained. "Me and Myers were more really open and close together."

I'm sure there is more in the book than this sort of thing, which is dispiriting and, it seems, unfair.

Here's Yale lawprof Kenji Yoshino reviewing the book:

We're introduced to the many Thomases we have never seen: the RV-driving Thomas, the Ayn Rand-loving Thomas, the Catholic Thomas and others.

The book's main flaw is its failure to give us more of one particular Thomas: Justice Thomas. For a biography of a jurist, Supreme Discomfort is surprisingly short on Thomas's legal decisions and philosophy....

Merida and Fletcher also fail to grapple adequately with the justice's jurisprudential methodology....

It is hard, though, to quarrel too much with a book that solves the great Thomas mystery: his legendary silence. One conventional explanation is that Thomas is still smarting from the Anita Hill scandal that occupied his confirmation hearing, an explanation that seems less plausible with every passing year. Merida and Fletcher explain his courtroom demeanor by suggesting that silence is the closest Thomas can come to opting out of the scripts that eddy around him. "If you can't be free," the poet Rita Dove writes, "be a mystery." It is a serious indictment of race relations in this country that, in 2007, the nation's most powerful African Americans are still not permitted to be individuals.

Can you "solve" a mystery by "suggesting" something? I don't think so, even if a poet's purported wisdom is tossed in. I'm not buying the theory that such an extraordinary man is "silenced" by "scripts" that are imposed on black people. The man has overcome so much in his life. It's insulting to portray him as flummoxed by "scripts," "stories," and "narratives." Yoshino is delivering a strong dose of his own theories here, and it will help you understand what he's saying here if you know what he wrote in his book "Covering."

Now, "Covering" is a terrific memoir. Thinking about it, I realize that what I want to read about Clarence Thomas is his own memoir. He has things to say, and some of them he has already told us.

Here's the best explanation I've read of why he keeps silent on the bench:

Since Justice Thomas joined the bench in 1991, he has offered limited comments about his reticence, leaving it to friends and former law clerks to defend his practice. They dismissed any suggestions that his relative silence reflected any lack of intellectual confidence. But during an informal chat with high school students the day after the court's ruling in Bush v. Gore, the justice offered his most extensive explanation.

He said his fellow justices are so talkative that if he just waits, someone will ask the questions he might have asked. ''Unless I want an answer I don't ask things,'' he said. ''I don't ask for entertainment, I don't ask to give people a hard time.''

Then he offered a reason no one had ever suggested. He said his poor upbringing in Georgia had an effect on his inclination not to ask questions. When he was 16, he said, and the only black student in his seminary class, he was used to speaking in a low country dialect known as Gullah. ''People praise it now,'' he said. ''But they used to make fun of us back then.''

As a result, he said, he ''just started developing the habit of listening.''

Why doesn't that "solve" the "mystery"?

Maybe everyone is picking the solution that works best with what they already want to say about Thomas or -- as with Yoshino -- what they've already said generally about how they think the world works.

A morning coffeehouse.

Let me declare this an Althouse coffeehouse. Have some conversation on me. I'll be joining you when I arrive at some airport hot spot.

UPDATE: I'm in the Manchester airport, where the WiFi is strong and free. New Hampshire is a good place for a blogger. In Hanover, the whole city had free WiFi. Madison has WiFi service, but you have to subscribe (through a complicated process), you can't pick it up everywhere, and the airport WiFi is a different system (I learned, after I paid for city WiFi and discovered it didn't work in the airport). Cities! I will judge you by your WiFi.