You are mine kinda gal!"
I’m beyond the point of disgust and have started to feel sorry for her.
Here I am, my first day in Baghdad… It is overwhelming to be here and there is so much to take in.
I’m underwhelmed. This is stuff you’d read from a kid’s writing assignment on the first day of school: What I did on my summer vacation.
Daddy packed the suitcases in the car. I waved bye-bye to my friend Johnny. Daddy started the car. We backed down the driveway. I screamed “Are we there yet?” Daddy swatted me over the head with a map. I didn’t care if we got there or not.
Her traveling show should be called "Pimping Socialism".
Just count the number of times she says ‘I’. It’s all about Katie all the time. And it’s nauseating. She’s using the troops to save her sorry career.
Her, and CBS, only presence there is to undermine the recent victories from the offensive surge and compromise the report the U.S. general in Iraq will release shortly.
“It is overwhelming to be here... ”
“there is so much to take in... ”
“there are now three Royal Jordanian flights into Baghdad every day... ”
“there was a duty free store with candy and scores of watches... ”
“Our living conditions are hugely luxurious... ”
“The folks in our Baghdad bureau are brave or crazy... ”
“air conditioning, multiple televisions... and a pretty spacious kitchen... ”
“The city looks like a third world country... ”
“I was in New Orleans last week... ”
“That's it for now... time to go shopping!!!”
I suppose by Monday she will be blogging that it will be seared, seared in her mind where she was on Labor Day 2007.
She wouldn’t even make a good hooker.
Wow. Having read the column I have a renewed appreciation for Catie’s utter cluelessness. She’d also not a very good reporter, observer, news professional, or writer.
Let’s see.... she correctly explains that the Green Zone is actually called the International Zone, and then continues to call it the Green Zone.
A genuine newshound, Catie marvels that Iraq’s single civilian airport has three Jordanian Air flights per day. But that’s ancient reportage to to the thousands of civilian reporters, diplomats, and businessmen who have been using those flights for years now. Talk about “living in a bubble”, eh Catie?
OK, as one who spent several years editing columns like this - and also several months in Iraq - maybe I’m being too nitpicky. But why, Catie, do you give us two full grafs about “the road from the airport” before calling it “what the military calls Route Irish”? Perhaps after a few days away from your New York City bubble, and more time in your “Green Zone” bubble, you’ll learn that others beyond the military - embassy folks, NGO staffers, Middle Eastern businessmen, and yes, even reporters my dear Catie - don’t call it “the road from the airport”, but instead use the militaristic shorthand Route Irish .
Suck it up Catie, you can too.
September ratings ploy
I was willing to cut Katie some slack when I heard she was going to Iraq.
Now that I’ve read her piece, I’m back to my usual disgust of her. Her writing and thinking is shallow and self-centered. We are getting another colonoscopy bit from her.
Katie's here!
I'm leaving the Green Zone very shortly for my own FOB.
I got tired of the bowing and the scraping. It starts to put a crick in your back after a while.
I was hoping Katie and I could get our nails done together and stuff, but I have to...ummmm....wax the floor or something.
One simply has to laugh at the manner of her blog entry. It's very Seinfeld-ian. She blasts everything the Americans have done or not done, but at the very end says about the troops: "I don't know how they do it. But they do, and we should be grateful." Day Three: I am alone. Except for the occasional sounds of friendly fire “oops, sorry” incidents, I fear the sound of silence will drive me to walk the streets in hopes of finding the elusive “happy Iraqi”. I long for room service and a triple latte (extra chocolate nibs on the whipped cream, please), and a decent Tibetan rug vendor who understands the difference between Taupe and Fawn Brown. My heart is heavy and my butt is weary. Or is it the other way around? I don’t know. Time means nothing here. And words mean even less. Except for mine. I know I am making a difference. Some of the locals are actually inviting me in to try on their family belts. Although slightly uncomfortable, the built-in clock is a definite multi-functional accessory. And it comes in Taupe. Finally, someone in Iraq ‘Gets it’. Maybe I AM making a difference.