Inside Georgetown

Aquarian Weekly 7/17/02 REALITY CHECK


For the past six months I had not heard a peep from my infamous GOP insider, Georgetown, at least not in the usual sense; the occasional caustic message on my cell phone or a chance meeting at some function or other. This is odd, considering his repeated appearances in this column for nearly five years. Odder still, when considering that Washington has ostensibly turned into a Republican headquarters for the past two of them.

However his absence becomes clearer when viewed through a political lens. Georgetown is nothing if not a political monster, and since I’d left the New York headquarters of The Desk, my appearances at political or sporting events have waned considerably. And so my running into him or someone with access to him has lessened greatly. Georgetown had not heard of a fundraiser or a press conference he didn’t like, which is why he enjoyed a continued anonymity in this space, and a direct voice for his madness. I, in turn, have come to enjoy his wickedly honest and accurate assessment of national politics.

I’ve spent my free time mostly away from frontline politics lately, paining to finish a well-overdue manuscript for my next book. So I’d more or less assumed that Georgetown had little to no use for me or this column. Moreover, it has been tentative times in our nation’s capitol, what with the infinite “War Against Terrorism” and the crippling of Wall Street with these repeated corporate cover-ups. Especially damaging to a president who was bankrolled into office by big business interests and grotesque oil funding.

However, about three weeks ago I began receiving cryptic E-mails from someone with the title of GT through an anonymous Hot Mail account. The notes had Georgetown’s recognizably vitriolic tone, but with very little of the usual wit, one-line commentaries on past columns, much like the ones I receive from any rankled reader.

Chaney is in deep with Arthur Anderson. Bush has the stench of these oil bastards all over him. Christ, he has to start talking about this shit. It will cost us seats in the Senate and then you’ll see where his “compassionate conservatism” gets us.


“You twisted hack, what is the point of dissecting the (Bush) administration’s Middle East policies when they do not exist?”

“You have little to know idea what kind of godless twits roam in the offices of Bob Kerry these days.”

“Time to come to grips with the fact that Worldcom is run by wild, fuck-crazy Arabs who wish to sink the U.S. economy from within.”

“You’ve got a better chance of making deadline under 600 words, than anyone has of hearing the identity of Deep Throat, least of all from that puny douchebag stoolie, John Dean.”

“This bullshit about the “Pledge” (of Allegiance) is beneath you, so why don’t you stick to speculating about gay rights in Bergen County.”

Cute, pointless, and highly provocative, I decided these almost daily barbs were Georgetown’s attempt at riling my attention, without fully coming out of hiding. I balked at mentioning this in my column until I had a beat on his methods, which unpredictably alter with the political wind these days. And I surely did not want this space to turn into some kind of running libel machine for the upcoming mid-term panics that rumble down the streets Washington around this time every four years.

And so it seemed right to track down the old boy in D.C. during our nation’s celebration of Independence. It had been a few years for me actually “working” inside the Beltway. That takes a different kind of breed, younger, hungrier, willing to be lied to incessantly, until all manner of faith is rendered impotent in its wake. It takes the guile and fortitude of a reporter with at least a modicum of optimism, of which I have traded for using the “F” word liberally.

But that is why this trek was so necessary, so vital to the continued vitality of this column. Truth has always been the mantra of Georgetown, and although he has incurred the wrath of many who already know he is selling them out, he blabs and barks and carves with the best of them.

Unable to reveal the methods in which I weed out sources, to protect their cover and keep the gravy train greased and fired up, suffice to say the double-vodka martini is a good place to start. So the following is the first of a two-part discussion that took place in a darkened booth in the back of Chadwick’s Pub somewhere along K Street in the part of our nation’s capitol that bares our friend’s name. It is a fine bar for a summit on mid-term madness and all things politico.

jc: I want you to know I missed deadline tracking you down.

GT: That’s the least of your problems. This is a bad time to be here. Didn’t you hear; the Arabs are going to fire missiles at the Capitol building from Arlington Cemetery during the fireworks?

jc: Is this directly from Tom Ridge?

GT: Yes, the Grand Poobah of Homeland Defense. We call him Chicken Little Junior down here. He’s sucking millions of taxpayer dollars foraging out angry love letters from Muslim law students and leaking germ warfare memos to the State Department on the hour.

jc: Enough fucking around, where have you been?

GT: Fucking around? You need a beating after that “Pledge of Allegiance” mess I see is running this week. Was that bit of insurrection planned for the holiday?

jc: Please. You’re and atheist.

GT: Yeah, I loved that crap about taking God off of money. You miss the point entirely. God is money.

jc: Let’s get back to your absence from my answering machine. Is it the doomed economy under this Republican “big business” government we’ve got going on down here?

GT: You see this is why the press has no fucking idea what is going on. Perception is king, and I know that, but the question will be over the next two months does this administration know how cozy it is with these companies that keep cooking the figures and floating belly up on the shores of the Potomac. Chaney is in deep with Arthur Anderson. Bush has the stench of these oil bastards all over him. Christ, he has to start talking about this shit. It will cost us seats in the Senate and then you’ll see where his “compassionate conservatism” gets us.

jc: How deep in is this Worldcom fiasco? Has it reached Enron proportions politically?

GT: It doesn’t matter. The more these trials drag on, and new miscreants are dragged out to testify, the more the public has the perception that everyone, not just the politicians; everyone is bought and sold by these massive corporations.

jc: Guilt by association?

GT: The fattest hens always come home to roost.

Next Week: Bare Knuckle Jungle

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