08-06-2016, 09:09 PM
I have no idea what Doyle hopes to accomplish by calling me a lone nut advocate. That is simply looney.
But to get back to his finger waving accusation. Let me refer to parts of my review. Which, for instance, Deb Conway thought was one of the best things I ever wrote.
From an historical point of view, its always good to examine the origins of some phenomenon or trend. That is, where did the author begin.
As Janney himself notes, he began with Leo Damore. Which, in my view, is problematic right off the bat. Because, its clear that Damore hit at least one, perhaps two roadblocks in his travail on this story. One was tragically personal, and the other was intellectual. I have little inside knowledge of the first which resulted in a personal tragedy for him.
But let us examine the latter. Here is an excerpt from my review of Janney's book:
Well, Janney's piece de resistance in this regard is a set of notes made by Damore's lawyer, Jim Smith, about a phone call Damore had with him in 1993. Damore called Smith and said he solved the Meyer case. Damore said he sent a letter to a CIA safe house to one William Mitchell. Recall, this is the guy who used a chemical process to turn himself from white to black to fake out Wiggins in the murder. Well, if you can believe it, Mitchell replied to Damore's letter.
Again, it is necessary to step back from the construct. I have been doing field research in this case for a long time. I have encountered CIA safe houses. The reason they are called that is that they are run, monitored, and controlled by the Agency. The idea that a journalist like Damore would write a letter to one, it would get through, the hit man would reply, and they then would talk for hours on the phone, this is all quite foreign to my experience. But that is what Janney wants us to believe happened. (Janney p. 407) Janney even writes that Damore supposedly met the man in person. (ibid, pgs. 378, 404) Now, just this would be enough for me to arch my eyebrows and close my eyes. But further, there are no tapes or transcripts of any part of the call. Even though Damore said he taped the whole thing. (ibid, p. 408) Even though Damore said he was up most of the night talking to the man. (ibid, p. 404) Further, none were produced either at the time of the call in 1993, after Damore's death two years later, or in the intervening 17 years. Any writer worth his salt who had been working on a project as long as Damore had would have:
But to get back to his finger waving accusation. Let me refer to parts of my review. Which, for instance, Deb Conway thought was one of the best things I ever wrote.
From an historical point of view, its always good to examine the origins of some phenomenon or trend. That is, where did the author begin.
As Janney himself notes, he began with Leo Damore. Which, in my view, is problematic right off the bat. Because, its clear that Damore hit at least one, perhaps two roadblocks in his travail on this story. One was tragically personal, and the other was intellectual. I have little inside knowledge of the first which resulted in a personal tragedy for him.
But let us examine the latter. Here is an excerpt from my review of Janney's book:
Well, Janney's piece de resistance in this regard is a set of notes made by Damore's lawyer, Jim Smith, about a phone call Damore had with him in 1993. Damore called Smith and said he solved the Meyer case. Damore said he sent a letter to a CIA safe house to one William Mitchell. Recall, this is the guy who used a chemical process to turn himself from white to black to fake out Wiggins in the murder. Well, if you can believe it, Mitchell replied to Damore's letter.
Again, it is necessary to step back from the construct. I have been doing field research in this case for a long time. I have encountered CIA safe houses. The reason they are called that is that they are run, monitored, and controlled by the Agency. The idea that a journalist like Damore would write a letter to one, it would get through, the hit man would reply, and they then would talk for hours on the phone, this is all quite foreign to my experience. But that is what Janney wants us to believe happened. (Janney p. 407) Janney even writes that Damore supposedly met the man in person. (ibid, pgs. 378, 404) Now, just this would be enough for me to arch my eyebrows and close my eyes. But further, there are no tapes or transcripts of any part of the call. Even though Damore said he taped the whole thing. (ibid, p. 408) Even though Damore said he was up most of the night talking to the man. (ibid, p. 404) Further, none were produced either at the time of the call in 1993, after Damore's death two years later, or in the intervening 17 years. Any writer worth his salt who had been working on a project as long as Damore had would have:
1. Taped the call
2. Had it transcribed almost immediately
3. He would then have had the tape and transcripts duplicated.
4. The originals would have been placed either in a personal safe or in a safe deposit box at a bank. Not just to prevent them from being purloined. But because they were worth money. They would be instrumental in negotiating a large book contract from a major publishing house.
What does Janney say in this regard? That Damore's book agent told him "he thought he remembered Damore talking about certain aspects of this call." (ibid, p. 412, italics added) Under normal conditions, once Damore told the agent about every aspect of the call, the agent would have requested the copies be sent to him special delivery. He then would have begun working the phones. Within a week or so, he would have had a substantial contract for Damore to sign. Yet, none of this happened, or even came close to happening. Damore had two years to come up with this proof, or to meet with Mitchell, attain his photo, and ascertain his precise living conditions. Yet none of this information exists.
2. Had it transcribed almost immediately
3. He would then have had the tape and transcripts duplicated.
4. The originals would have been placed either in a personal safe or in a safe deposit box at a bank. Not just to prevent them from being purloined. But because they were worth money. They would be instrumental in negotiating a large book contract from a major publishing house.