‘A Whiskey Tango Foxtrot Moment’

Well of course ” . . . Afghanistan policy is disconnected and self-deceiving.” Efforts to stop the locals from growing opium poppies were a failure, and so now the U.S. and its allies have given up on it. That surely is an indication that there is not much of a future for American and NATO efforts, such as they are, to achieve “victory”, however that is defined these days. In that regard, I recall a conversation I had in the late 1960s with a Marine Corps Lt. Colonel and a Greek immigrant. They insisted that the U.S. had to stay in Vietnam and win the war, or else America would have no credibility. I asked, what if the U.S. loses, what about credibility then? Neither of them could even imagine such an outcome. I am not directly comparing the Vietnam adventure with the one in Afghanistan, except to say that it is a good idea to recognize that there are limits, and that ignoring them is to invite a worse outcome. It is past the time when the U.S. should have recognized that “victory” is not always a possibility, and to not launch such adventures. But since the move has been made, the best thing to do now is to be realistic and to leave the field of combat before more is lost.

I have followed Woodward ever since Watergate and I cannot for the life of me understand how anyone can still take what he says seriously.

The Bob Woodward Story, Part I,
or How to Make a Sharp U-Turn (written in May 2006)

Two young reporters, like all their kind,
yearned to escape their daily grind.
Keen they were, enthusiastic,
and prayed they’d clinch that scoop fantastic.

Little did they dream that fate
would lay before them Watergate,
and all the President’s men’s skullduggery
best described perhaps as thuggery.

Bob typified the dogged sleuth
who’d dig ‘til he unveiled the truth.
Investigation was his strength;
for a story he’d go any length.

He’d probe the White House fabrications,
delve into Nixon’s aberrations,
uncover every lie or prevarication
and expose a rotten administration.

So Bob and fellow newsman Carl
vowed Tricky Dicky to ensnarl.
Lucky for them a mole appeared
with a modus best described as weird.

He’d meet with Bob in a garage under ground
where his whispers did not make a sound.
He earned the nickname of Deep Throat
and he gave our Sherlock cause to gloat.

Bob and Carl gained widespread admiration
for what they did to save the nation.
They exemplified steadfast persistence
as they wore down editor Ben’s resistance.

So President Nixon was thrown out –
a mighty triumph without a doubt.
A task not easy to repeat
on a humble newsman’s normal beat.

New fields of effort they had to find
and leave their news desks far behind.
Carl’s modest ways stayed as of yore
while Bob’s huge ego was now a bore.

To young journalists he was quite the hero,
a role he took to like De Niro.
A real colossus he became,
a legend now of worldwide fame.
Made managing editor at the Post
he seemed to vanish like a ghost.
Now his by-line seldom would appear
and co-workers soon began to sneer.

They asked wherever could he be found
and why he was never seen around.
Eager hacks set out to trace him
and it did not take them long to place him.

He was seen as he left in a rush
from an office occupied by Bush.
The guy who hated presidents’ men
had now become just one of them.

The White House was in disrepair
as leaks oozed out from everywhere.
All around were phone call buggers
when what they needed were good pluggers.

George W. considered him a chum
and how could poor Robert not succumb?
He was handed info cherry-picked
and it dawned not on him he’d been tricked.

He played his cards close to his chest
and his editor did not keep abreast,
He was gathering all that he could muster
for inclusion in his next blockbuster.

He had once reported all the news
but now felt he could pick and choose.
He would decide which well-cooked brownie
to feed to editor Len Downie.

He appeared with awe-struck Larry King
who allowed him his own praise to sing.
His methods, once investigative,
had now become accommodative.

When asked if he felt any blame
for keeping mum on Valerie Plame
he denigrated the prosecutor
though some others called him a straight shooter.

There are many who have grown quite leery
as every word of his they query.
Why some still pay to hear him lecture
is only open to conjecture.

He no longer can be called a model
when all he says is now just twaddle.
But remember this, you who would berate him.
Bob’s still a reporter, though now verbatim.

The Bob Woodward Story, Part II,
or Bob’s State of Denial (written in October 2006)

Quick, finish dinner! At the TV we must look
to hear Woodward plug his latest book.
It’s easy to learn Bob’s point of view
for he’s on the networks, and on cable too,

As we wait for his findings to be revealed
we hope that nothing will be concealed.
Will he throw any light on that odd love affair
between George Bush and Tony Blair?

When he sits face to face with 60 Minute’s Mike
it’s awesome how they are so alike.
It’s hard to decide whose demeanour is sternest
as they prepare to discuss the book in earnest

No levity here, no how are the folks?
But we are all aware it’s no time for jokes.
Have such austere expressions been seen before?
Indeed they have, on Mount Rushmore.

So we anxiously wait and with bated breath
for Bob’s disclosures, we hope in depth.
What will he tell us? What can we expect to learn?
What inside stories that might cause concern?

He addresses Wallace in ponderous tones
as on and on and on he drones
with that steady and unblinking gaze
and then pauses for Mike his words to praise.

As he gives all his phrases the self-same stress
it‘s not easy their importance for us to guess.
Could anyone ever consider terrific
a delivery best called soporific?

Once he decided his reporting role to abdicate,
Was when Woodward began to pontificate.
Now, should he find things get too hot at home,
he could always hop on a plane to Rome.

Newsweek says he knows how to excavate
but that claim leaves room for much debate.
We recall how he lauded Bush’s “moral determination”
leaving none in doubt of his open admiration.

But wait! What is reaching my disbelieving ears?
The sound of Bob as he again changes gears?
Can he really be saying that his erstwhile cronies
Are nothing more than a bunch of phonies?
He swears that Bush has been known to lie,
and says things in Iraq have gone awry.
So it’s obvious that he’s now jumping ship
and has learned how to do a pancake flip.

We’re mesmerised by his asseverations
and dumbstruck at his aberrations.
Is he telling us that he has seen the light
in the book that he took two years to write?

Alas! What he serves us is reheated hash
when what we expected was a hot news flash.
So what may we get when the Post’s straight shooter
again hits the keys of his laptop computer?

Will he tell us that tomorrow the sun will rise?
That Polaris is seen in Northern skies?
That Cheney’s is not the steadiest hand
when he picks up a gun while he’s still half canned?

Will he discover that Halliburton steals,
charging millions for non-existent meals?
Will he say Condi continues with her to’s and fro’s
the reason for which God only knows?

Will he warn us the CIA makes mistakes?
Or tell us Laura is good at baking cakes?
Will he say the Intelligence Service we cannot trust
or drop another such nugget to leave us nonplussed?

There is one question I feel I have to ask
and hope that I’ll not be taken to task.
While Rummy’s stuff may happen, or perhaps may not,
for how much longer must we endure Bob’s tommy rot?

As I wondered what became of the Bob I once admired,
and, like many, whose footsteps to follow had aspired,
I realized I’d overlooked a significant factor,
That the Bob I was thinking of — is Redford, the actor!

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