Word: cossacks
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...happening without us. As the frazzled bus driver stepped off the bus to “recollect her thoughts’” we talked seriously about hijacking the whole operation, locking her out of the bus and finishing our supply of “Finest Quality Cossack Vodka...
Except, of course, that it did, as his peers realized as they read on. Some measured up well. Abrams and Williams sussed in a few minutes that Gore had run out of time. But it was excruciating to watch CNN, where legal analyst Roger Cossack stalled pitiably for time as anchors Bernard Shaw and Judy Woodruff pressed him to draw a conclusion, while the clock ticked and rival MSNBC sounded taps for Gore. "So are you saying," Woodruff asked, "it appears that a recount could take place?" "Yes," he finally answered--an ultimately incorrect analysis the network stuck with well...
Obviously, Cossack didn't get the memo--responsible doesn't sell. After election night, when the networks botched the call of Florida twice, this was their last, best chance to get it right. So they applied what they learned from November. Namely, nothing. Again, they chose being fast over necessarily being right. And this time they didn't even have the excuse of bad data. The answer was in their chilly little hands; they just decided not to digest it before reporting. In general, they pulled off a remarkable feat of deadline analysis. Thing is, that used to be what...
...live drama, as for precious minutes the fumbling reporters tap-danced, giving useless definitions of certain Latin phrases as if to demonstrate that, even if they couldn't tell us who our next president was going to be, they were still worth their paychecks. On CNN, Roger Cossack seemed particularly lost and pitiable, hemming and hawing as Judy Woodruff pressed him on whether the decision ended the Gore campaign or not that it would be "irresponsible" to say anything conclusive before he'd read the whole opinion...
...think of Dan the way he was when I first knew him at Harvard - thin, handsome, dashing in a Slavic style, with high cheekbones and curly brown hair brushed back from his high forehead, and a moustache, and the air of a 19th-century cavalry officer, a Cossack, or, possibly, the leader of a New York City street gang. He had in him the lightest touch of the thug (he had learned to handle himself as a greenhorn kid in New Jersey, fresh off the boat.) He walked with a distinctive gait, something between a strut and a shamble, broken...