From The Dissident Voice
By Bernard Weiner

Dear Diary:

God, that was humiliating! I’ve never taken a dive before, and it showed. I was sweating like a pig as those senators used me like a punching bag.

Obviously, I couldn’t tell the truth about the U.S. Attorneys situation, or the whole enterprise would collapse — Karl, Dick, The Boss, the whole lot. Ain’t no way I’m going to the slammer, at least not tripped up by anything I’ve said.

If the Demoncrats are going to get me, they’ll have to prove it, and I don’t think they’ll be able to locate anything but circumstantial evidence. The cleaning crew did its work well. I hope.

So there I was in front of the Senate Judiciary Committee coming off like someone with early-onset Alzheimer’s: I can’t recall, I’ve wracked my memory and have no recollection, that meeting just isn’t in my memory, and a hundred other such variants. Embarrassing!

Sure, it was obvious I was lying my head off, but they can’t get me for a faulty memory or for when I said I believe that such-and-such happened or didn’t happen. I know my way around the magic words. We rehearsed for days so I’d be comfortable using those terms and delivering my lines with believability. (Who was it that said once you can fake sincerity, the rest is easy?)

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