Aah, stinky politics! And I write this with the full knowledge of the fact that the NSA may be spying on me and reading this blog as we speak. (God willing!) This is Washington DC after all!
First, I'd like to get in touch with my publisher today to wish a Happy Holiday (I'm drinking the Kool Aid-flavored rhetoric here!) to everyone who'd toiled in the interests of Wendy Coakley-Thompson this year (first sign of megalomania-- referring to yourself in the third person). But I know the office is probably empty, because of the transit strike taking a bite out of New York City. How will Bridge-and-Tunnel people, such as myself, get in to pay through a certain orificie for the overpriced, rude, sullen New York Experience?
Now I read in "Media Notes," Howard Kurtz's column in The Washington Post, that James Risen, the New York Times reporter who wrote the story of domestic spying in the paper, has a book coming out in January. Risen'll probably be cast in the role as the hero, a neo-Bob Woodward, even though his paper held the story for a WHOLE YEAR! And don't get me started on Bob Woodward. You can't "plame" me for my ambivalence (Okay, that was bad!).
As an author, I'm always trying to find strategies to increase my base. I was a big Tony Robbins fan almost ten years ago. He says that, when you're looking for "strategeries" for success, you should look at successful people, see what they did to get where they are, and extrapolate that into your particular circumstances. So, I'm looking around me at who's putting up numbers that I can only dream of, at who's getting press. And I ask myself: Should I have my very own wardrobe malfunction (Janet Jackson, and God forbid!)? Should I hook up with famous men and ply my tales of them to get myself famous (Karrine Steffans)? Should I Lewinsky the President (Clinton, gladly; Bush, not without biting down)?
Are these some of my only choices? I'm open to suggestions. Let me know what you think... and, as I always say, tell ten friends...
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