A Climax in the Bergdahl Saga Approaches

Well.

After yesterday's colossal gaffe (IMHO) by the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs (see yesterday's post), it seems that at least one decision-maker in the DoD has come to his senses.

SGT Bowe Bergdahl will be charged with desertion. NBC reports:

Army Sgt. Bowe Bergdahl, who was held captive by enemy forces in Afghanistan for five years, will be charged with desertion, a senior defense officials tell NBC News. The officials say the charges could be referred within a week.

According to the officials, the desertion charges would be based on allegations that Bergdahl abandoned his remote outpost in June 2009 to avoid hazardous duty or important service, which are grounds for charges of desertion under the Uniform Military Code of Justice, or UCMJ. According to one senior official, Bergdahl's actions in Afghanistan go well beyond the lesser offense of AWOL, absent without leave, because he allegedly abandoned his post "in the middle of a combat zone, potentially putting the lives of his fellows soldiers at risk."

The charges will apparently not allege that Bergdahl left with the intent never to return. Bergdahl was reportedly captured by the Haqqani terrorist network in Pakistan. He was released in a prisoner swap for five Taliban commanders held at Guantanamo Bay in May.

Perhaps the public will finally be made privy to the details surrounding his capture and the prisoner exchange that led to his release last year. Too many good men lost their lives searching for him -- their memory demands clarification and closure.

Wouldn't it be "interesting" if the Young President granted him clemency? You know -- traitor to traitor.

Moral of the Story: Don't Roast Other People's Weinies

It appears that New Orleans doesn't have an exclusive lock on bizarre crimes.

A former Little Rock Police officer (he was a former officer because he had been fired after multiple suspensions) died early Friday morning in the yard of a blogging hot dog vendor.  For real.

The Democrat-Gazette reported on the crime in Saturday's edition -- the Comments are rather enlightening. Here's the skinny:

It seems that a Mr. Ean Bordeaux, who goes by the nickname "War Chief" of the Creole Houma-Choctaw Nation, makes his living running a hot dog stand in the River Market district. (Side note: His cart sells "Willy Dogs," which is kinda amusing since his assigned spot is on President Clinton Drive. "Slick Willy" -- get it? Heh. I wonder if he did it on purpose.)  Mr. Bordeaux also publishes a blog entitled, "Corruption Sucks," in which he recounts what he perceives as central Arkansas officials' misdeeds. "Syndicated  Social Justice Worldwide." (Caveat: Mr. Bordeaux uses rather -- ummm -- colorful language.)

Some years ago, Mr. Bordeaux witnessed then-Officer Todd Payne brush off a bar fight while on duty in the River Market by refusing to interfere or help the bar's owner. Bordeaux blogged about the event, and other of Payne's misadventures. A lot. He continued to blog about Mr. Payne and his wrongdoings even after Payne was fired by the LRPD in 2010, the most recent post being entered on March 1 of this year.  A scrolling banner proclaims in red, "This page will be updated regularly." He refers to Payne as Joel "Creepy Todd" Payne. Payne apparently was, indeed, rather creepy. Payne apparently also took major offense to Bordeaux's attentions.

In the wee hours of Friday morning, Bordeaux was awakened by his dogs' frantic barking. He checked a security monitor and saw his Willy Dog cart -- his Willy Dog cart that was equipped with a propane tank -- ablaze in the backyard, adjacent to the house where his four children were sleeping. He dashed outdoors, put out the flames with his hands, and called 911.  While awaiting the police, Bordeaux saw a man wearing a hat and mask pouring lighter fluid onto the cart. He chased the man, tackled him, and held him down until police arrived. When unmasked, it turns out that the man was Creepy Todd, a rather portly fellow, and that Creepy Todd was dead. (Facts in addition to those published by the Demo-zette are courtesy of Forbidden Hillcrest, an amusing local blog about "Little Rock crime, history, and weirdness." Also, a trashy blog, Americans Against the Tea Party.)

Mr. Bordeaux was questioned, but has not been charged.

I think this incident qualifies for the "You Can't Make This Stuff Up" file.

Now I Know How the Dinosaurs and Buggy Whip Makers Felt

Everyday life as we know it in New Orleans will cease to be come autumn. 

The grand old lady of print journalism, The Times-Picayune, will beef up its digital alter-ego and reduce the number of days it publishes a print version from everyday to Wednesday-Friday-Sunday only.  The move will leave New Orleans as the largest city in the USA without a daily newspaper.

The staff was blindsided, but that's another issue.

After carefully monitoring the outpouring of confusion, grief, anger, and disbelief on social media  following the announcement yesterday, the powers-that-be at the paper ratcheted up the spin machine.  Today's headline screams, "NEWSPAPER TO MOVE FOCUS TO DIGITAL."  The first paragraph lauds the upgrades to be made to NOLA.com (which said upgrades I already dislike -- but then again, I'm not a big proponent of change): "As the digital world has evolved, so too will we." 

Glossing over what the reading public will lose, it continues,"Beginning in the fall, the newspaper that so many of you rely upon will continue to publish on a reduced schedule of Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays." Thanks for throwing us a bone there, guys, by "continuing to publish."

Intellectually, I understand that the shift to digital service is inevitable -- heck, I do a lot of research and news-gathering online already.  But, there's just something so physically satisfying about unfolding that newsprint, and popping it open, and having to wash my hands afterwards to get rid of the ink that rubbed off on my fingers.  There's something so comfortable about digging through the yellowing recipes I've clipped over the years; the favorites not only yellowed, but also stained with splashes of their ingredients.  I can already attest that the effect is not quite the same when perusing through recipes that I've sent through the printer on sterile white typing paper.  (Is there such a thing as "typing paper" anymore?)

When we started having work done on the house that displaced the kitchen table, Bouie and I began to lunch on the front porch, and we both enjoyed it so much that we've continued the practice even after the kitchen is (mostly) put back together.  I take my lunch, a Milk Bone for Bou, and the "Living" and "New Orleans" (that also contains the editorial pages) sections so I can read them at leisure while Bouie stands sentry duty.  He keeps all those evil, marauding people pushing strollers or walking little yappy dogs at bay.  It's just not the same holding the iPad.  Even Bouie seems to sense how rapt I'll tend to be, depending on whether I'm holding flapping newsprint or a tablet computer (that doesn't always hold its Wi-Fi connection).

*sigh*

So, as the Young President "evolves," so too does print journalism, I suppose.

At least kids will still be able to sprawl on the floor to read the funny papers on Sunday morning.

For awhile.