Susan McDougal
  Big-time LA talk radio lib meets The Woman Who Wouldn't Talk

      Click to order
(Bart: This is a great book.)

 She was a trip.

 Susan arrived at 8:55PM with her co-author Pat Harris, her publicist and his assistant, I believe.
 Immediately--a ruckus between my producer and SMacD over some weirdness and Susan got a little testy,
 thinking it might be some kind of right-wing, talk-radio trap she'd walked into.   I went out at break and gabbed
 with all of them, and she and Pat realized that it wasn't a standard dittohead hellhole and the ice was broken.
 Patched things up with her and Eliza the producer and they were now insta-buds, which is good - Susan is
 a Southern belle and Eliza is an LA girl.

 Coulda been messy!

 ha ha

 Which was good that all was cool, because her mic was dead for the first 6 minutes,
 so I re-introduced her, got it revved up and, man, it was insane.

 We talked about Starr being too chicken to go tete a tete with her and about her shattered faith in the system
 (and about one good thing out of all this, her formerly Republican dad has seen the error of his ways). Calls came in,
 running about 4 to 1 in her favor, people calling her a hero, one fool Freeper tried to pin her to the idea that she'd been
 free to tell the truth to Starr in the first place--which was impossible, because they never wanted the truth anyway.
 I drilled the guy a new one myself--they'll never get it.

 But the peak of her appearence came when a fellow named Rick called from down South (Laguna, I think) and told her that
 one of his buddies knew Jim MacDougal in prison. Susan said that Jim's only wish was not to die in a prison cell and that's
 where he died, alone and naked on a concrete floor, refused his meds, because Ken Starr didn't need him anymore, post-Monica.

 It was intense, but she was ecstatic--told me that it was a pleasure to finally talk to someone that spoke their mind and she
 was shocked that I knew the deal between the Washington Post and Starr and Steno Sue--she turned to Pat in amazement
 that I was hip to that story and it dawned on me that the things we take for granted, on B-Cop, Smirking Chimp, Atrios,
 MWO and other sites barely registers in the mainstream.

 And our last segment was begun the way it always does, with the Sid Vicious version of "My Way" (From The Great Rock
 and Roll Swindle) and me screaming over it, begging Sid to shut up. Susan looked at me and said, in semi-horror, asking
 "Where am I?"  I told her we were all on acid, but because it was California, citric acid, and not to worry. That got a
 nervous chuckle out of her and Mr. Harris. But, the show is very rock and roll and so is Ms. MacD--for one segment,
 I use theDictators "Who Will Save Rock and Roll?" and she was bopping to it. She has good taste.

 My crew was in heaven and I haven't been sacked yet (and with feelers out to Howard Dean, John Kerry
 and others, who knows how long I'll last?).

 She was the real thing, an American hero that's devoted her life to prisoners rights, a subject that brought her to tears.
 Two million forgotten people, some of them awful people, but there are over 2,000,000 awful people running free as we speak.

 Look at Texas!



 Oh this?

 Yahoo mentioned some Pallas kitties were born somewhere,
 and Mrs Bart wanted to see them, and it'd be stupid to delete it, right?


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