How the Media Are Blowing It–My Personal Observation from a Senate Press Conference

Be very afraid for the security of this country, for just as the scandal over Jeff Gannon started to die down, I’ve proven again that any schmoe without the slightest big media imprimatur can wander right into a high-level government press conference. And it’s not the security stuff you ought to be worried about; I went through security three times, and by all appearances, it works very efficiently. It’s the fact that I’ve learned how weak a weak link the press is between the voters and the votees.

All I broke through (quite accidentally, as it turned out) was the closed shop of the press, who for all their obsession with exclusivity, don’t actually appear to have reported anything. They’re using taxpayer funds to turn the U.S. Capitol into their own closed shop, into which none shall pass!

Let us review how the media’s monolopy served our understanding of this historic day:

Exhibit A: The New York Times. Nope, not there.
Exhibit B: The Washington Post. Nothing but yawners about things like the WTO and cotton, and this prominent story on the Chinese party line on the U.S. and democracy.
Exhibit C: Al-Jazeera. They were there, too. Nothing.
Exhibit D: Yonhap. There. They covered it, but forgot to append the words “this is an editorial.”
Exhibit E: BBC: They were invited. So where’s the story?

At least I know Jeff Gannon gets paid for. As an added bonus, he’s also much more honest about his biases. Plus, he’s screwing other, consenting people. Gannon’s still on the little mind of Frank Rich (a theater critic!), who’s justifiably concerned that ABCNews is running two-hour specials on UFOs and that few reporters report anymore, but doesn’t get it through his skull that some competition in the marketplace of information–even if from the likes of Gannon and his many counterparts on the left–might actually force the “real” reporters off their lardy glutes.

Wanna hear more about the officious, plasticky parasites? The snotty lady at the front desk, on learning that I’m not from any of the big media, was energized by my offhand statement that the government was certainly not looking very accessible that day. This brought down an icy crapstorm about the rules being set by the press corps, not the government. At this point, I was gripped by the obvious fact that I happened to be standing in the United-States-Freaking-Capitol Building.

“So does that mean I get to decide who can hang out in my neighbor’s den?”

“Oh. You apparently have a problem with the policy, sir.”

“No lady. I don’t have a problem, I have what’s known as ‘an opinion.’ And I’m now late for this conference.”

This, she did not like. Nor does it help matters when I concede that she’s not the one who makes the rules. We have obviously found a person who believes she makes the rules. By now, I can see the restraining order:

By order of this Court, you will not approach within 100 yards of:

A real biyaatch. The final indignity is when she tells me that I can only go to a “listening room” that has an audio speaker, but no video screen. C-SPAN would be better than this, but it’s all I have. Resigned not to miss any more of the conference, I head for the Ordinary Schmoe Sequestration Area, but I’ve never done directions well (and thus never ask for them, as my wife will confirm). Through a door on my left, I see a bunch of people in a room listening to something. Must be it. I walk in, and there, fifteen feet in front of me, is Frank Wolf standing between John McCain and Joe Lieberman. Call me “the accidental journalist.” Works for me!

Continued here.