Scooter and Albert

When we watch movies, we never have any doubts about who the stars are. And if we do, we can remove such doubts by watching the credits roll by. The stars' names fill the whole screen, while the subordinate actors are listed in small print, under the title "with," like so many small potatoes.

Considering all the ink spilled over the last few months on Scooter Libby and Alberto Gonzales, we might be forgiven for thinking they're big stars in the political smackdown movie we've been watching the past six years. But as Josh Marshall points out at TPM, and Atrios echoes, the real perps of the executive crime spree we're witnessing aren't the bit players and water boys, but the guys at the top.

Libby's function was to carry out a campaign of retribution and personal sabotage that grew out of Dick Cheney's obsession with Joe Wilson's revelation of the administration's lies about Iraqi WMD. Cheney, who kept a copy of Wilson's New York Times op-ed under the glass on his desk, was the pistol, and Libby was simply the bullet.

It's now become obvious that Al Gonzales was following Bush's direct orders when he ordered the firing of the eight U.S. Attorneys.

Getting rid of bit players like Scooter and Albert accomplishes nothing. When the corporate media run hundreds of column feet on guys like this, and expend days of air time analyzing the minutiae of the activities of spear carriers, they're playing their old game of distracting us from the root of the problem. They're giving us appetizers, not a meal.

To hell with canapes. I want a steak.

If Congress doesn't have enough ammo to impeach these guys, what will it take? Welcome to Deadwood, where government is just another criminal enterprise.