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blue bits. red rocks.
Wednesday 30 June 2010

Let me just say one thing quickly: I don’t know Michael Hastings. I’ve never met him and he’s not a friend of mine. If he cut me off in a line in an airport, I’d probably claw his eyes out like I would with anyone else. And if you think I’m being loyal to him because he works for Rolling Stone, well – let’s just say my co-workers at the Stone would laugh pretty hard at that idea. But when I read this diatribe from Logan, I felt like I’d known Hastings my whole life. Because brother, I have been there, when some would-be “reputable” journalist who’s just been severely ass-whipped by a relative no-name freelancer on an enormous story fights back by going on television and, without any evidence at all, accusing the guy who beat him of cheating. That’s happened to me so often, I’ve come to expect it. If there’s a lower form of life on the planet earth than a “reputable” journalist protecting his territory, I haven’t seen it. As to this whole “unspoken agreement” business: the reason Lara Logan thinks this is because she’s like pretty much every other “reputable” journalist in this country, in that she suffers from a profound confusion about who she’s supposed to be working for. I know this from my years covering presidential campaigns, where the same dynamic applies. Hey, assholes: you do not work for the people you’re covering! Jesus, is this concept that fucking hard? On the campaign trail, I watch reporters nod solemnly as they hear about the hundreds of millions of dollars candidates X and Y and Z collect from the likes of Citigroup and Raytheon and Archer Daniels Midland, and it blows my mind that they never seem to connect the dots and grasp where all that money is going. The answer, you idiots, is that it’s buying advertising! People like George Bush, John McCain, Barack Obama, and General McChrystal for that matter, they can afford to buy their own P.R. — and they do, in ways both honest and dishonest, visible and invisible. They don’t need your help, and you’re giving it to them anyway, because you just want to be part of the club so so badly. Matt Taibbi

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