The following communication appeared in my e-mail inbox shortly after President Clinton signed into law the Telecommunications Act of 1996, including the provisions known as the "Communications Decency Act." The message was signed "Anonymous," and both the signature and the style suggest that it was written by the anonymous author of Primary Colors, the steamy roman a clef about Clinton's presidential campaign in 1992. I have my doubts, but the cynicism sounds right, and that last line does have the ring of truth.
I was just leaving the press conference where I'd been scooping up grounders from the press corps on the firings at the White House travel office when somebody pulled on my sleeve. It was spin doctor Hi Bidder, and he was sweating like an Arkansas pig.
"Conference over at the palace, Corbett," he muttered. "Rush job."
Figuring shrewdly that he wasn't giving me a tip on an employment opportunity with the Limbaugh organization, I got a move on over to the Oval Office.
The O.O. was lousy with spin doctors when I arrived. Before I had a chance to bow to the Prez, spinner Steve Gherkin was filling me in on the latest firestorm.
"It's this Communications Decency Act, Corbett. They're saying that the CDA is a direct frontal attack on freedom of speech in America. They say the Prez has sold them out."
"Who's this 'they'?" I probed.
"Mostly the Netniks," Hi put in. "They're mobilized. They're calling for the Prez's head. Some nerd named Dave Whiner is putting together a letter-writing campaign, Netnik-style."
"Which is what, exactly?"
"They spend hours designing clever Web pages and then show them to one another."
We all had a chuckle at that. The Prez he-hawed until there were tears in his eyes.
"You had me worried for a minute there, Hi," I said. "No press interest, then?"
"No, so far, the scorps don't seem to have caught on."
Gherkin harumphed. "There is some online reporter claiming that the President must be insane, perhaps the result of early drug use or an STD."
Hi and I glared at Gherkin and I shot a quick look at the Prez, but he was staring out the window, a beatific smile on his face, and didn't seem to have heard.
"I said press, not some crackpot Netnik. Is anybody with any real weight speaking against the CDA?"
Gherkin shrugged. "Speaker Gingivitis has come out, you should excuse the expression, against it. That enough weight for you?"
"After delivering the House in overwhelming support of it."
"Well, sure." He looked annoyed. "Look, Corbett, the word is out on the Internet that the CDA will stifle political speech, that it will make the Net the most censored medium ever. That it's plainly unconstitutional."
I snorted. "If it's unconstitutional, it's not our problem, Gherkin. That's the Supreme Court's lookout." I glanced at the Prez, but he was busy playing with the First Cat. "Guys," I told them, "there's no crisis here. This is no Travelgate. Nobody's honked off except a few propellerheads. The press hasn't even noticed. And if the Prez did, in fact, sign a bill that effectively repeals the First Amendment, it just gives us better road position in the election, and the Court will rule it unconstitutional, so no harm done."
"Yes, the Court has been a stalwart defender of the Bill of Rights lately."
Gherkin's snide remark annoyed me, as everything he says does. Driving home, I looked the situation over again, but I still couldn't see how it could play out badly for us. By the time I got home, I was sure nothing could go wrong.
Back at the townhouse, I turned on CNN while heating up dinner. The usual stuff. Talking heads handicapping the presidential race. Entrail reading over the latest twitch in the market. Microsoft rumored to be on the verge of acquiring Switzerland.
And up in Boston somebody was dumping tea into the harbor.
Anonymous's premise, that only a crazy person could sign a bill like this into law, is unfortunately incorrect. The President and members of the House and Senate just don't think free speech is very important. The mainstream press apparently agrees, considering lower cable rates to be the real story in the Telecommunications Act of 1996, rather than this effort by our elected representatives to repeal freedom of speech. There is this consolation: When this act is overturned, there will be no doubt who the defenders of liberty are, and no doubt about the political power of the medium they tried to silence.
Michael Swaine
editor-at-large
mswaine@cruzio.com