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A reader did not care for the item I posted a few days ago about Anne Wexler, the former Eugene McCarthy activist turned Fortune 500 lobbyist. (My item cited a critical piece about Wexler by Michael Kinsley.) Fredrick W. Jackson wrote:
Ken Silverstein has the gall to praise Michael Kinsley’s defamation of Anne Wexler in your publication. I always considered Kinsley an out of touch “arch” liberal (emphasis on the arch), but his Op Ed piece was a new low. Those of us who have worked with Ms. Wexler over the years value her leadership and friendship– and mourn her passing. A much better analysis of her life is found in Robert Barnett’s piece in Politico (or, for that matter, in any of the many other articles about her).
What is it about folks like Kinsley (and, obviously, Silverstein) who cannot stand the success of those who have made it through the mine field of politics and business with their integrity intact? I view him as a coward for waiting until her death to launch his tirade– I gather he feels she is guilty of consorting with the enemy. This presupposes that there are “enemies” in public debate, a very Nixonion concept. He fits right in with the Karl Roves and Sarah Palins of our world, where victory goes to the loudest screamer.
Kinsley cannot do Anne’s reputation any damage– he only hurts what is left of his own reputation. Please pass along to him my contempt for his way of viewing the world, and for his attempt to besmirch one of the “good guys”.
For my part, I still believe Wexler was utterly amoral, which is far worse than being immoral.
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."