Despicable. Little Scott McCLellan, barely out of short pants when he stepped into Ari Fleischer's job as press secretary, is out peddling a hatchet job masquerading as a memoir of his "service" --I use the term lightly, even facetiously--in the Bush administration. One of the most inept and useless appointees George Bush ever gave the nod to, he now repays the president by standing with the mindless, baying press hounds and levels the same kind of breathless accusations on the celebrated international spy case known as the Valery Plame affair. Yeah, that one. The "covert" agent who got the full semi-celebrity Vanity Fair interview treatment, including full-facial photo spread on the cover--not the sort of cover one ordinarily associates with covert agents. But whatever. I suppose McClellan thinks we have forgotten that the prosecutor knew before he started his career building witch hunt, that Colin Powell's henchman, Richard Armitage, who still has his job, unlike the ruined Scooter Libby, was the one who "outed"--if one can out an office worker at CIA--to the press. Or that Plame and her tea drinking ambassador-lite husband were merely two foot soldiers in the anti-Bush shadow government that the CIA had long since become.
Peddling this sort of back-stabbing, insinuating, self serving tattletale book, using a sensationalized non-story to smear the president--while the man is still in office!--is beneath contempt. This must have the feel to President Bush of holding a baby grandchild in his arms, only to have him reach up and slap in him across the face.
Think your new liberal friends are going to find you some cushy job now that you've joined the assassins' circle, Scotty? Good luck with that.
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