(h/t Bobby Sherwood)
Why is the AP Hartford office part of the (undeniably chilling) Justice Department phone records grab?
The records obtained by the Justice Department listed outgoing calls for the work and personal phone numbers of individual reporters, for general AP office numbers in New York, Washington and Hartford, Conn., and for the main number for the AP in the House of Representatives press gallery, according to attorneys for the AP. It was not clear if the records also included incoming calls or the duration of the calls.
One of the reporters whose records were sought is the fearless Matt “My Name Is Matt Apuzzo; You Killed My Father; Prepare To Die” Apuzzo, who did titanic work in Connecticut circa 2006 on the Galante story and wrapping up interesting loose ends of the Rowland scandal. But he does not work in Hartford anymore. So what gives?
The governor of Connecticut in his front yard picking up Jack Russell terrier poop with plastic bags, while said JRT’s barked excitedly at him.
I mean, now can you be cooler than Chris Hadfield is right now?
Actually in Drogheda now.
I will be back among you Sunday.
In Dublin today, we visited Kilmainham Gaol, and I remain stirred and haunted hours later. Ten years ago, I was roaming around an part of Ireland west of here while writing this book. I discovered a whole branch of Plunkett relations and, on the slimmest of evidence, quietly bonded myself to the memory of Joseph Mary Plunkett, one of the leaders of the Easter Uprising. Plunkett probably was not one of the key strategists, but something about his story, especially his marriage to Grace Gifford at the 11th hour before his execution, jolted the complacent into new spasms of nationalism. It seems like a joke about the Irish that a doomed love might speak to them more powerfully than their own natural desire for home rule, but that does seem to have been the case. Anyway, it was unsettling today to see his tiny cell and to walk in the rocky yard where the firing squad took him. That was hours ago, and we’ve since been to the Abbey Theatre to see “Drum Belly,” but I’m still in a Plunkett mood. (Hat tip to our guide Anthony, who does his job with a gavity for which we were grateful.) This was not his actual cell. This one is much nicer.
This is Myself and my three Forum panelists last Saturday. (John Hodgman, Baratunde Thurston and Carrie Brownstein.) Baratunde calls it our Reservoir Dogs walk. Here’s his vine-laden account.
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