a placeless world

Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity must be in one hell of a state.

On the one hand, it's open season. One of Right Radio's favorite "liberal media" targets, The New York Times, has admitted its coverage of the lead up to war in Iraq "was not as rigorous as it should have been."

On the other hand, The Times isn't exactly admitting the kind of blunders that Limbaugh, Hannity and their ilk seem to believe plague America's self-proclaimed paper of record. On the contrary, in its 1,100-word confession to the nation, The Times suggests it acted far too much like Right Radio and far to little like the most important newspaper in the world. In short, it didn't let the facts get in the way of a good yarn, especially when it came to tales of Iraqi weapons of mass destruction and Baathist ties to terrorism.

And while the Bush administration was using those very prevarications to make a case that would result in the deaths of tens of thousands, The Times was drafting article after article based on questionable claims, many coming from "a circle of Iraqi informants, defectors and exiles bent on regime change" and eagerly supported by administration hawks.

What The Times didn't mention in its mega culpa was that those sources were most often quoted under the condition of anonymity.

Anonymous sourcing is a drug: a devilish deal reporters make to get a scoop — and sources often use to run roughshod over the truth. If there truly is a plague in national and international reporting, it's the all-too-frequent use of anonymous "official" sources. A search of the Google News database today reported 2,910 separate uses of the phrase "on the condition of anonymity"
within the last 30 days.

And from which website did Google locate the very first hit? Even as The Times admitted to mistakes made by editors and reporters "too intent on rushing scoops into the paper," it allowed the reporting team of Richard Stevenson and Eric Lichtblau to add the words of an anonymous administration official to its coverage John Ashcroft's warning that terrorists may have infiltrated the United States.

Good little journalists learn in good little journalism classes that quotes are used to advance a story. "Quotes," one textbook explains, "are like exclamation points."

But here was Stevenson and Lichtblau's anonymously attributed exclamation point: "There's no real new intelligence, and a lot of this has been out there already… There really is no significant change that would require us to change the alert level of the country."

Thirty-three words of nothingness coming from nowhere. If the standard that Times editors use to determine whether to allow anonymous sourcing permitted this quote, it is no wonder that the paper's editorial board is now finding it necessary to admit that plenty of mistruths made their way into all the news that's fit to print.

The Times won't end its addiction, though. Nor will it even address it. In the increasingly hostile war for readers, unilateral disarmament isn't a good strategy. As evidenced by Google's search results, even if The Times cut back on its use of anonymous sourcing, thousands of others would continue.

The good news is that The Times has pledged to "set the record straight." The bad news is that the paper's journalistic integrity is broken.

As such, news consumers will increasingly choose the likes of Limbaugh and Hannity to quench their thirst for information. For as long as they have reason to believe they're not getting the straight story, they'll choose the person who delivers the broken story the best.

Presuming you've chosen a good partner -- one who honors you and values your intelligence, your wit and your beauty -- you're going to love marriage. It's the best thing I ever did, by far.

It's also the hardest.

I wish I could give you some real advice on the subject, but I'm hardly an expert. This is what I know. For better or for worse.

Know this: If you don't harbor some "what ifs" during the first year (and the rest, for that matter) you're not being honest with yourself. Single people will still seem to enjoy so much more freedom. Beautiful people will still look beautiful. Romantic movies will still seem far more romantic than real life. Do not succumb to temptation but do not deny your doubts. Doubts do not negate the love you feel for your spouse nor the devotion you have for your marriage.

My mother once told me that every seven years, like clock work, she goes through a period of hating my father. The first time, believing divorce to be sinful, she became depressed at the notion that she would live the rest of her life in a loveless marriage. The second time, jealous of friends who'd won their freedom with a few legal papers and a name change, she contemplated leaving my dad. But the third time, she rejoiced, knowing that the period of hatred would ultimately end with a greater appreciation, understanding and love for her husband.

"Doctor" Laura Schlessinger may be the biggest hypocrite ever to pretend to understand the Hippocratic Oath, but she's got one thing right (though she wrongly attributes it to only one sex): Humans are simple creatures. They need appreciation, approval and affection. And having those things, they are generally happy beings capable of making their partners happy in return. It will not always be easy to give your spouse the 3-A treatment. There will be times that you do not feel appreciative, are not approving and do not feel affectionate whatsoever. Express appreciation when you can't express approval. Approval when you feel a lack of affection. Affection when your appreciation wanes.

Perhaps because my parents lived in the same place for most of my life, it did not occur to me that careers can really throw a wrench into otherwise well-working marriage machinery. I write these words from Salt Lake City, 830 miles away from my wife in Monmouth, Oregon. Tending to my career meant leaving my spouse for three months. The good news is that she has found a job in her field here in Utah and we will be together again soon. The bad news is that it is not always this easy. Compromise and creativity will help. So will having regular discussions about the future and its many possible paths.

Do not let those discussions upset you. The future is flexible, dynamic and entirely unpredictable. I know a woman whom -- after some considerable and often heated discussion with her partner -- finally agreed to have one child. They became pregnant with triplets. As my wife and I contemplated our future, we spoke of -- and sometimes argued about -- moving to Seattle, San Diego and San Francisco. We certainly never expected to be living among the Latter Day Saints in Zion, the great Mormon state of Deseret. You simply never know where life will lead you.

Contemplate your vows. Remember them when times are difficult. And times will be difficult. They are expected to be. Otherwise, we would not say: "for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in heath."

May your marriage be blessed. May your love be strong and true.

You learn a lot about yourself at the moment that you charge into your own home to confront a burglar. About what you value. About what you don't.

My first thought, upon coming home Monday night to find my bedroom window forced open and the blinds torn down, was that I was glad my wife wasn't home when it happened. I wasn't worried about my DVD player. Wasn't worried about my fishing gear. Wasn't worried about my stereo.

Looking into my dark apartment through that window, I felt — for the first time since she returned to Oregon for her last term of college — grateful that the woman I love was 800 miles away.

My second thought was that, with the window open — possibly for the 72 hours I had been away from home — my cats might have fled. I wasn't concerned for my library. Wasn't concerned for my silverware. Wasn't concerned for my clothes.

In the seconds that passed as I surveyed the situation, my thoughts were on my wife and my pets.

In retrospect, it may have been wise to call the police in the seconds that came next. But if hindsight were foresight I'd be working for The New York Times. Does this look like The Times to you?

It was, I told myself, likely that whomever broke into my home had long since escaped. But not knowing whether the window had been open for minutes or days, I prepared myself for an alternate reality.

I banged on my door, turned the key, rushed in. A splitting moment of relief passed through my gut as I saw one of the two cats. I sprinted down the hall with my fists clenched and my arms cocked. I scanned the kitchen and ran back up the hallway, catching a glimpse of the other, smaller feline as I ran into the bedroom. Another moment of relief. I grabbed the heavy duty flashlight we keep by the bed. I slapped its heavy steel handle into my right hand. Back down the hall. Into the closet. Back up the hall. Into the bathroom. The lights were out, but my vision was clear. The one-bedroom apartment felt enormous with hiding places. Into the loft. Into the attack. Into the bedroom. Under the bed. Behind the doors.

I could hear my faucet dripping. My cats purring. I could smell the downstairs neighbors smoking. Camel Lights.

My pulse raged against the tightness of my collar. Once again around the home. Behind the shower curtain. Under the kitchen table.

God help me if I had found someone. Would I have struck them with my fists? With the flashlight? Would I ran away from my own home?

It was five, perhaps even 10 minutes after I concluded that whomever had come had also gone that it even occurred to me to evaluate my losses. The DVD player. The fishing gear. The stereo. The books and the silverware and my leather jacket. It didn't even seem to matter.

My wife was safe. My cats were safe. And I didn't have to learn whether I still knew all those cool moves I learned in karate class.

Which is not to say I wasn't pleased when I realized that nothing was missing.
Why the window was open and the blinds were dislodged I can't say. But what I gained — by not losing anything — I won't forget.

It wasn't the fact that former Oregon Governor Neil Goldschmidt engaged in sexual intercourse with a 14-year-old girl while serving as mayor of Portland in the 1970s.

No, my colleague has been around way too long to be disgusted at that. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd heard tales of middle-aged men engaging in sexual intercourse with teenage girls. And reporters are rarely affected by such things, anyway. Hell, even "civilians" express little surprise at such developments these days. We've been shocked into submission. We're numb to news content.

And so what was it that upset my colleague as she read about the Goldschmidt affair? That the Associated Press was referring to the relationship as an affair — a consensual one.

"That wasn't consensual," she complained. "A 14-year-old girl can't give legal consent."

"For that matter, then," I replied, "the sex never occurred."

I've long been bothered by the idea that we have allowed the United States judicial system to determine what "is" and "isn't," what "did" and "didn't."

Having reported on many cases that ended with wrongful verdicts, I am especially bothered by the reverence with which the American media treats the rulings of the courts.

How does a man transition from "alleged murderer" to "murderer" just because a court decrees him so? And is it true that a man can go from "accused killer" to "not guilty" as a matter of judicial decree?

And what then, of a 14-year-old girl's consent? Did it not actually occur because we the people have decided it cannot legally occur?

Consent, my dictionary tells me, occurs when someone gives permission, approval or assent to an action. The word does not judge whether such action is appropriate or legal. It is not for Webster to decide right from wrong.

Nor is it for the courts to tell us what "is" and "isn't."

Legal and illegal, yes. Appropriate and inappropriate, sure. Moral and immoral, I will give you. And right and wrong? Absolutely.

It is well that we trust our judicial system as we do. It would not work at all if we did not.

But it is time that we stop relying upon legal definitions to set factual absolutes.

Goldschmidt's obituary is unlikely to include more than a passing reference to his indiscretions.

Though he has admitted his evils, he was never convicted of them. And in America, only the legal stamp of conviction makes it so.

How very unfortunate indeed. Goldschmidt is a scoundrel. We need not a legal ruling to know that is so.

There is something else in those photos. Something that we don't want to see. Something worse.

President Bush this week took the the Arabian airwaves in an effort at damage control the likes of which we haven't seen since his playboy predecessor admitted to knowing "that woman."

As have his cohorts, Bush took the stance that the individual soldiers pictured torturing and humiliating Iraqi men — most of whom the Pentagon acknowledges are completely innocent of any wrongdoing — are not representative of the vast number of American soldiers occupying Iraq today.

This was, Bush claimed, an aberration.

It is a very few, a very evil few, that hope otherwise. And it is a very few that seem to believe otherwise.

But consider, for a moment, a few other "gotcha" moments in recent American history. The Rodney King video tape comes to mind. So does Monica Lewinsky's blue dress.

In neither of those cases did we believe that the incident in question was the only incident that happened — only that we had caught the perpetrator for a change. That Bush and his advisors — and the American media as well — seem so willing to buy the idea that we happen to have photographs of the only incidents of abuse speaks volumes to the power of denial.

That we expect the Arab world to believe that is insulting.

Take with me a trip to Christmas, 1997. The good ship U.S.S. Nimitz is in the northern Persian Gulf. Its pilots sit in their ready rooms on high alert. Saddam Hussein has denied weapons inspectors entry into his palaces, once again.

A group of young sailors goes berthing to berthing, wassailing a horrifying tune.

"Bagdad's burning, are you listening?
In downtown, kids are glistening.
We're bombing the sites,
All through the night,
Iraq is in a hellish wonderland."

And now, a trip to Oregon State University, circa 2000. A cadre of Marine midshipmen are on the fifth mile of a 20-mile hump. The guide — a junior history major — sings cadence.

"A-10, A-10 flying high
drop that napalm from the sky.
See those kids by the river
drop some napalm watch them quiver
Napalm sticks to kids"

And the future Marine officers respond in kind: "NAAAAA-PALM STICKS TO KIDS!"

Who, we want to know, are the people in those photos? The same young men and women — good young men and women — who were in the gulf in 1997 and at OSU's Naval ROTC in 2000.

The same young men and women who painted smiley faces and nasty limericks on AGM-88 missiles destined to take the lives of Iraqi soldiers. The same young men and women who gave you My Lai.

This is not an aberration. This is what happens when those indoctrinated into a way of life that discounts the value of human life are allowed to run a prison without training, without support, without supervision.

This is not an aberration. This is a gotcha moment. And there will be more such moments before the United States is through in Iraq.