Letters to the NY Times

I have a perfect record sending letters to the New York Times; not one was ever published. This letter too, unerringly found its way to the Editor's "black hole" and my record remains unblemished ~

To the Editor:

Whereas I can very easily fantasy Maureen Dowd as a Witch of Endor, stirring her stew and humming, "Boil and bubble, toil and trouble," I can just as easily limn Thomas Friedman playing Potsy, that city sidewalk game, while hopping around on his Pogo stick.

Today, in his "Worth a Thousand Words," Friedman has once again landed on the right square. He clearly defines for us what this "Insurgent" violence is about. We are seeing a group of conscienceless nihilists, with undisclosed political identities or goals, on an unceasing killing rampage in order to keep the Iraqis from democratically acquiring some semblance of self-determination.

But it is woefully unfair of Friedman to take potshots at the very people who succeeded in bringing us to this defining moment of world history. And in all candor, is there really anyone who could have led us, bloodlessly, to this crucial point?

I believe that I've been able to maintain a zero acceptance record with the NY Times, because I have the temerity to be critical of their anointed writers - and as I have remarked in a previous posting, Maureen Dowd is within the thinness of a communion wafer from being canonized by the high priests of this newspaper's Editorial Staff.