NEW YORK, May 14, 2013 — Fellow journalists, only yesterday you found out that Holder’s DOJ has been snooping on the Associated Press and collectively you express “outrage.”
Dozens of AP reporters and editors, some say up to a hundred, have just learned that their phones had been bugged.
Now you are awake. Finally.
Your ox just got gored.
“Where is the love?” You ask.
“We whored for this administration,” you say, “and this is what we get; our phones tapped, betrayal? Thanks a bunch.”
“How can this happen,” you ask, “in a nation that treasures the First Amendment?”
For years, we have been asking the same question. “Speak for us,” we said. “Speak for We the People. Protect us. Inform us.” But you were blind, deaf and dumb.
“Perform your duty,” we kept saying. “Do your job.”
But you slumbered.
For nearly a decade you ran Barack Obama’s errands. You did Eric Holder’s filthy dishes. You washed Hillary’s dirty laundry.
At those press briefings with that man, Carney, you asked about the weather for Obama’s golfing while American guns were being smuggled into Mexico.
This happened under Holder’s watch. What were you watching?
You turned those White House press briefings into Entertainment Weekly.
Obama, Holder, Hillary and all the rest of them, knew they had you wrapped up in ribbons and bows. Our nation was their footstool.
They could do whatever they wanted and they did. They passed Obamacare mostly behind closed doors, knowing you for what you are, patsies.
When Pelosi said, “We have to read the bill so that you can find out what’s in it,” you said, good enough.
You were not outraged.
Transparency? Who needs that?
In darkness they passed legislation. There was no one to shine the light.
You rolled over for Holder when there was that ugly scene at a Philadelphia polling station. Holder was fine with voter intimidation.
You agreed. No problem.
Certainly no outrage. Nothing close to outrage for Benghazi until Fox News and a few others dragged you in, kicking and screaming.
When Obama flew to Vegas one day after four of our fellow Americans were slain in Benghazi, you snoozed.
Today, you are outraged to find your love so unrequited.
You were not outraged when the president wouldnot give you the time of day.
To find out what he was thinking and how he was running our country, we had to turn to the View, Ellen or Jon Stewart.
That is how we were briefed. Not by you…and always at those pleasant chit-chats there was laughter.
We needed you to speak for us, not for them.
Maybe there is still time to make amends, now that you are outraged. After all, you are playing with our world.
Jack Engelhard, a novelist for such moral dilemma bestsellers as The Bathsheba Deadline, The Girls of Cincinnati, and the classic Indecent Proposal, his memoir Escape From Mount Moriah, and Slot Attendant – A Novel About A Novelist, Engelhard’s partly autobiographical expose about the trials of making it as a writer, brings his words to the Communities page covering all topics, with special focus on the absurdity of human behavior and reaches around the globe.
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