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Take a look at the website of the brand new Washington Independent, which offers terrific original political reporting and analysis. Good pieces recently posted include Spencer Ackerman’s story on CIA interrogators; a piece by Eartha Melzer (at the Independent’s sister site in Michigan) on the curious resume of Barrett H. Moore, CEO of a private military contractor with business in Iraq; and an op-ed on the failure of intelligence oversight by former CIA official Milt Bearden.
The site’s editorial director is Jefferson Morley, formerly of the Washington Post. Jeff is one of the shrewdest political observers I know. He was talking about immigration politics long before it was on anyone’s radar screen. Soon after Barack Obama declared that he would run for president Jeff predicted that his political enemies would seek to tar him as a closet Muslim, an idea I thought ridiculous. Live and learn.
More from Ken Silverstein:
Commentary — November 17, 2015, 6:41 pm
The Clintons’ so-called charitable enterprise has served as a vehicle to launder money and to enrich family friends.
Years ago, I lived in Montana, a land of purple sunsets, clear streams, and snowflakes the size of silver dollars drifting through the cold air. There were no speed limits and you could legally drive drunk. My small apartment in Missoula had little privacy. In order to write, I rented an off-season fishing cabin on Rock Creek, a one-room place with a bed and a bureau. I lacked the budget for a desk. My idea was to remove a sliding door from a closet in my apartment and place it over a couple of hastily cobbled-together sawhorses.
Amount by which a typical good-looking U.S. worker will out-earn a typical ugly one over a lifetime:
A Japanese inventor unveiled a new invisibility cloak that uses a material made of thousands of tiny beads called “retro-reflectum.”
A couple at a Cracker Barrel restaurant in Greenville, South Carolina, left their waitress a note telling her “the woman’s place is in the home,” in lieu of a tip.
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"She never thanked me, never looked at me—melted away into the miserable night, in the strangest manner I ever saw. I have seen many strange things, but not one that has left a deeper impression on my memory than the dull impassive way in which that worn-out heap of misery took that piece of money, and was lost."