Cokie Plonk

My morning routine is simple. I wake up, take a shower, and then sort of nap for about 40–50 minutes with the radio on in the background. I don’t know what started this habit, but I’ve been doing it since high school. Since NPR’s reporting has fallen to shit, I’ve started hitting the snooze bar, adding up the increments of seven minute spaces of silence in my head so I know when to get out of bed. On the super rare occasion that the news story that’s on when the radio comes back on is interesting, I don’t hit the bar, leaving my seven minutes of meditation for after the story ends.

Now, I’ve had the hate for Cokie Roberts for a long, long time. I hate how she’s allegedly a liberal/dem pundit, just because her dad was an old-tymie Dem congressman who really, really hated Brown v. Board of Education. She’s slimy on the air, and she twists her words in the subtlest ways, always, to make the Democrats look craven, or pedantic, or petulant. Today’s “analysis,” however, was the last straw. Whenever she comes on my radio again, I’m instantly snooze barring her, lest I destroy my clock radio.

Today’s piece was about the cynical, lame-duck recess appointment of John Bolton to serve as UN ambassador. This is a man who failed to get an up-or-down vote, who had prominent Republicans denounce him on the floor of the Senate, with one even crumbling in tears as he wondered what Bolton’s promotion would mean for his children. But in the Bush administration, catastrophic failure coupled with fierce loyalty is met with promotion (see Rice, C). Bolton amassed a huge file of unprofessional behavior and other fuckups, but, dammit, he was down in Florida stealing an election back in 2000, so he needs his payback (see Roberts, J.). But this is all background, and my hate isn’t for the Bush Administration (at least not in this post); it’s for Cokie.

Now, the Democrat filibuster was about one thing, and one thing only: the refusal of the White House to release certain documents about Bolton. I have no idea what’s in those documents, but they probably add to his rap sheet of ineffective bluster and blundering. Or, maybe, they finger him as passing state secrets to Judy Miller. Who knows. In any case, the White House is covering up, and the Democrats have been very specific about what documents it is that they want (just like with the Roberts case). As Harry Reid said in the Senate:

We are not going on a fishing expedition here. Democrats are seeking clearly defined and specific information about two very important issues that bear directly on John Bolton’s fitness to represent this great country at the United Nations:

Did Mr. Bolton attempt to exaggerate what Congress and the American people would be told about Syria’s alleged WMD capabilities?

Did Mr. Bolton use, and perhaps misuse, highly classified intelligence intercepts to spy on bureaucratic rivals who disagreed with his views or for other inappropriate purposes?

Note the use of words like “clearly defined” and “specific.” Note the dismissal of a “fishing expedition.” Reid uttered these words almost two months ago—an eternity for a pundit, so maybe one might want to cut Cokie some slack, but I doubt it. Now what’s weird is that the one Cokie bit from today’s Morning Edition is not the one I heard on the radio. I can’t find the one I heard on the radio, but here’s the crux of what she said: That Democrats were trying to stop the Bolton nomination by “asking for documents, more documents, and even more documents,” making the efforts of the Senate Democrats seem like ticky-tack screwing around. But although the clip doesn’t include the quote I’ve recreated above, it’s still pretty slippery—how self-satisfied does she sound when making the ethics charges against Delay seem petty—and gross.

Further, she clicks in annoyance when discussing Democrats efforts to get a document dump about Roberts. Can’t she understand that investigation and research are good things? Things, maybe, especially a journalist should value? Roberts comes before the Senate a practical blank slate. Wouldn’t the reporter in Cokie make her want to know more about this fellow? Guess not. Cokie, welcome to the clock/radio version of a plonk.