On softening the heart

Dear readers,

On March 6 of this year, a federal grand jury convicted former White House official Lewis "Scooter" Libby of perjury. He falsely claimed in an investigation of the Valerie Plame leak scandal that he did not reveal to the media that Mrs. Plame was an undercover C.I.A. agent. Libby's sentencing is in June. Meanwhile, Libby's attorneys asked several of his friends and supporters to write letters to Judge Reggie Walton asking for leniency in this case. Recently, the same attorneys filed to have those letters sealed from the public for fear that the contents of the letters could be used by bloggers to make fun of Libby.

I wrote one of those letters, and I am reprinting it here for two reasons. First, I cannot see how anyone could take the contents of this heartfelt plea and twist them to cast a disparaging light on Mr. Libby. Second, I hope to one day profit from the inclusion of this letter in a volume of my correspondences.


From: Laurence Shandy
To: Judge Reggie Walton
Re: Libby leniency

Dear Judge,

In exchange for writing this letter, my friend Scooter Libby's attorneys have agreed to compensate me with two repossessed yachts and my own weight in virgin's blood. I am not at liberty to reveal where they procured these gifts, and I don't care. Frankly, I would have written this letter for half as many yachts and a third as much blood. You see, I don't need them. There's no need to drain a virgin's veins. My skin is luminously exfoliated enough without it. And my docks are so full, I'll just have to smash those yachts to pieces. What I'm trying to say is this: I'm rich, so you know my opinions hold some weight.

And it is both my opinion and a simple fact that Scooter Libby cannot receive the twenty-five years of imprisonment he faces under his current conviction. Obviously he can't keep a secret. Any grand jury can see that. Do you think Valerie Plame's C.I.A. status is the only thing he's ever blabbed? I don't really know Libby all that well, but where there's smoke there's fire. The ability to keep a secret is of paramount importance while in prison. Thirty years ago, I was thrown into a Turkish labor camp over a minor indiscretion involving myself, an abandoned warehouse, and the gifted algebra class at an Istanbul girls' school. Do you think I would have made it out alive if I'd spilled the beans to the guards about mine and my compatriots' escape plans? Of course not. All those nights nursing bleeding knuckles and weaving hair ladders would have been for naught.

Not that I'm implying Libby would ever successfully escape prison. He's obviously not cunning enough to pull off any sort of gambit. I mean, how hard is it not to tell a grand jury that you never spoke to Tim Russert when you know they're just going to interview Russert himself? How dumb do you have to be? Your honor, I know you've been around. You know what kind of fate a mush-brained blabbermouth will suffer in prison. Not even a position in the Bush White House can prepare a man for that. To you and me, Scooter Libby may seem like nothing more than a huge asshole, but to the inmates at a federal penitentiary, he will literally be nothing more than a huge asshole. Those animals will be playing a non-stop game of pack-the-sardines in Libby's posterior, and for what? For lying to a grand jury? For endangering a United States intelligence agent's life for political revenge?

Look, even if you don't feel for Libby himself, please consider all those minor drug offenders and white-collar money launderers whose penises will inevitably be lodged in his rectum. President Bush nicknamed Libby "Germ Boy" for a good reason. No, it's not because he insisted on universal smallpox vaccination. It's because he's close personal friends with a man whose name rhymes with "gonorrhea". Do you really want Libby's cellmates dipping their wicks in that? Remember, once these people get out, they'll be the ones in the White House. If you treat them well now, there may just be a nice federal appointment in the deal. How does Ambassador Reggie Walton sound? There's nothing like a never ending stream of yachts, virgin's blood, and a little diplomatic immunity to soften a man's heart.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman