In that passage, on his book’s seventh page, Sammon stated the past campaign’s iconic negative soundbite on Gore. And to justify it, he was willing to dissemble from beginning to end in describing that pointless canoe ride. But when Sammon recounts the canoe tale, he almost never lies. Dissembling constantly to give false impressions, he shows that the real pros are far slicker than that.

Consider the nugget paragraph, early on in his tale, in which he describes the canoe story as "nothing short of amazing." We are back on July 22, 1999; Sammon has just spoken with employees of PG&E, a New Hampshire power company. An hour earlier, Gore has staged an environmental photo-op with New Hampshire Governor Jeanne Shaheen, canoeing down the drought-stricken Connecticut River. And Sammon, speaking to those employees, has learned that PG&E released water from an upstream dam so that Gore’s canoe wouldn’t run aground in the process:

Now there’s some real textbook dissembling! There isn’t one false statement in that passage, but Sammon’s account is grossly misleading, in ways that Sammon understands. As Sammon knows—and as he knows that you don’t—the water released by PG&E had nothing to do with that summer’s drought; the water from the PG&E dam was used to generate electricity each day, and was never going to be used by anyone to wash their cars or water their lawns. Indeed, if Gore had just bombed the dam in question, it would have effected no one’s ability to perform the chores Sammon listed. In real time, this obvious point was made perfectly clear by major papers in New Hampshire and Vermont, but it was constantly obscured by Sammon in the Washington Times; two years later, the Big Guy’s back at it again, giving readers the clear impression that precious water was wasted that day. Of course, he doesn’t quite say that Gore was at fault, because he knows that that is provably false. Here’s the maestro’s first account of how the water was released that morning:

PG&E "was instructed?" When professionals go to the passive voice, you need to start checking your wallets. Surely, many people would think from this passage that "Gore’s advance team" (whoever they were) may have given the utility its instruction. That is, of course, not the case. In two full weeks of gimmicked-up stories back in 1999, Sammon and the Washington Times never said that Gore or anyone in his campaign had directed the release of the water. In fact, Gore’s spokesmen insisted they had done no such thing, and no one ever said different. The "Gore advance team" to which Sammon refers in his book was, alas, the local river commission and the Secret Service, as Sammon made perfectly clear in real time; according to Sammon’s own WashTimes reporting, it was they who had inspected the river, and then it was specifically the river commission which asked the utility to release the water. Despite the luxury of his book-length format, Sammon never explains that in At Any Cost. Here is the closest he gets:

"Gore himself had not ordered the raising of the river." Sammon never says who did give the orders, leaving open the possibility that Gore’s "advance team" or someone on Gore’s staff may have been the culprit. This is strange, because in Sammon’s Day Two report in the Washington Times, he explained exactly who gave the order; it was Sharon Francis, the "local environmentalist" who was in fact, as Sammon reported in the Times, "executive director of the Connecticut River Joint Commission" and "one of several government officials" who joined Gore on the river that day. In Sammon’s 7/24/99 WashTimes story, Francis explained, with perfect clarity, that she had directed the release of the water, after the Gore campaign had explicitly asked her not to change any local procedures. This was clearly explained in real time, and no one ever contradicted it. But now, the "government official" was recast for the book, described instead as a "local environmentalist," and Sammon didn’t say who gave the orders, leaving open the possibility that Gore’s staff or "advance team" had done it. Meanwhile, Sammon was being rather disingenuous when he said that he had made the point, in his "first story," that Gore himself hadn’t ordered the release. In that story, Sammon did report the statement, early on, that he somehow managed to avoid in his book; "Cleve Kapala, director of government affairs for PG&E, said the utility was asked by the Connecticut River Joint Commission to open the dam after the commission and Secret Service agents visited the site Saturday." But Sammon remained a master of spin, finding various ways to imply that Gore was the culprit. In his Day Two WashTimes story, for example, he showed the way a reporter can use uninformed citizens to pass on misimpressions; after quoting Francis explaining that she ordered the release, Sammon immediately quoted several New Hampshire residents (real or imagined), who criticized Gore for doing so. (Example: Trolling for disinformation at a restaurant across the state from the incident, Sammon quoted "a self-described local environmentalist," who said that she was "disappointed by Thursday’s stunt." Her quote on Gore? "I hope he would think a little bit better before allowing something like this to happen again.") Spinning journalists use such tricks to get counterfactual images into print; knowing that Francis had made the decision, he spent three paragraphs quoting uninformed locals who were kvetching at Gore for having done it. So it goes as dissembling journalists convey the false stories they like.

But none of that involves lying! In Sammon’s book, it isn’t a lie to call Francis a "local environmentalist," because, in some sense, she is. And it isn’t a lie to omit basic info, like who actually made the decision. It isn’t a lie to quote a person who is implying things which you know to be false. And no, it isn’t exactly a lie to say that a "Gore advance team" inspected the river; it just gives some readers a false impression that could have been dispelled by the simplest facts. This is how scribes like Sammon spin you—with tricks designed to give false impressions. But somehow, the Four Circles passage got under Bill’s skin, and he did what our spinning scribes seldom do—he went ahead and lied in your face, showing off the wierd corruption at the heart of this genial "All-Star."

Please don’t think that we have exhausted Sammon’s canoe trip spinning. The story only takes five pages in his big-print, quickie book, but efforts to mislead his readers are found in almost every paragraph. Examples:

Earth tones: As he starts, Sammon rewards his faithful buyers with an iconic, absurd blast from the past:

Really? Those were Gore’s "earth tone" days? According to a Lexis-Nexis search, the WashTimes’ first reference to "Gore AND earth tones" didn’t come until November 3; although it’s true that Gore wore "earth tones" at various times throughout his eight years as vice president (as did the vast majority of Americans), the press corps didn’t allege an intentional "earth tone" wardrobe until the fall of ’99. Did Gore stage this canoe trip to "showcase" his earth tones? Only an idiot could think that. No reporter in the country mentioned Gore’s "earth tones" that day. Why then does Sammon say it? Easy—he wants to get "earth tones" into his story. During the press corps’ hapless campaign coverage, "earth tones" became an iconic emblem of Al-Gore-as-a-total-phony, and Sammon wants to cram it in early, pleasing his credulous buyers. Is this a "lie," then? Not really—too trivial. It is a disingenuous use of code to convey the image Sammon wants to convey.

Who picked up the canoe trip story? Proud papa Sammon gives the clear impression that his Washington Times canoe trip reports turned into a big press corps story:

And had probably been on the way up. This passage misleads in various ways. Did Sammon’s reporting become a major, media-wide story? Had the "intended message of the day" been "utterly obliterated" on 7/23? Sorry, no, on both counts. The New York Times gave the story five paragraphs total, in a 7/24 story; three of the paragraphs were devoted to statements denying that Gore’s campaign had directed the release. The Washington Post never reported the story at all; it got one paragraph from Ceci Connolly, deep in a 7/26 story on Gore. (The story did get five paragraphs from Dan Balz in a 7/25 "POLITICS" column.) Was the story "picked up by CNN?" Yes—barely mentioned on the 7/23 Inside Politics, in a short report which stressed the fact that the Gore campaign didn’t order the release. (According to Lexis-Nexis, the incident wasn’t mentioned on CNN again until the 7/30 Crossfire.) And how about the Associated Press? Here’s part of their 7/23 report:

oops! A good hunk of the AP’s short report went to Kassel’s claim that Bill Sammon misquoted him! In fact, the canoe trip story got remarkably little play in the wider media. The Washington Times pushed the story hard, running five front-page stories, four by Sammon, between July 23 and August 6. But the story was largely ignored by other outlets. "Gore AND canoe" produces no Lexis hits at the Los Angeles Times, for example, and two brief mentions, totaling five paragraphs, at the Chicago Tribune. (The Trib’s first mention came on 7/31. Even there, the four-paragraph item devoted one paragraph to Kassel’s claim that he’d been misquoted.) And what about that other claim—was "the controversy already being dubbed ‘Floodgate?’" According to Lexis, there was only one scribe calling it that. And you guessed it—it was good old Bill Sammon, in the Washington Times, quoting a "local reporter:"

It is, of course, logically possible that Sammon’s unnamed reporter actually exists. But if he does, he doesn’t seem to work at the conservative Manchester Union-Leader; Lexis reports no hits for "Floodgate" at the paper, and the Concord Monitor spent most of its time correcting problems with Sammon’s reporting. In fact, Lexis reports no one but Sammon calling this event "Floodgate" over the next week or so (Lexis doesn’t cover smaller NH papers), although the affable scribe tried and tried to make the exciting name stick. Sammon used the "Floodgate" tag in the Times on 7/24 and in the White House Weekly of 7/26; but Lexis reports no one else using the term until Sammon wrote this laughable passage on page one of the August 2 Times:

From what has become known as Floodgate? Nine days after the original story, only Sammon had used the term! Is this "lying?" We’re getting damn close. But so it goes as Sammon tells readers what a Great Big Liar that awful Gore is. Let’s just say this—if Gore had ever "embellished" an achievement the way that Sammon embellishes his, the press corps would finally have had a real example of this much-alleged trait of Vile Gore. In fact, there was no other Gore-is-a-phony story in the entire campaign on which the press corps took such a pass. And why did thre press corps pass up this story? Duh—because the Gore campaign had nothing to do with the water release, a fact which Sammon fails to state all through his slick, corrupt chapter.

And don’t worry, dear readers, there’s more. According to Sammon’s book—enjoy the irony here—"For two weeks after that canoe ride, Gore supporters furiously tried to spin the story." Hay-yo! Here’s one of Bill’s pseudo-examples:

Which no one had ever disputed, of course. And "Team Gore" didn’t say that the dam released water routinely; they said the dam released water every day, another fact which Sammon never mentions. "Routinely" was used to hide that fact. And Sammon now makes the tale better:

But you have to parse Sammon very carefully. Assuming just for the sake of argument that he may have quoted Goodwin correctly, Sammon fails to note what was reported elsewhere—in the conservative Union Leader, for example. On July 29, 1999, John DiStaso reported this:

So what was the "first" which Goodwin had never seen? Presumably, raising the river for a VIP was "a first," not raising the river in general. This was explained in real time in the regional press, but escapes mention in Sammon’s book. And if you want to be even further misled, accept this at face value:

Gore loyalists "finally" fell back on that theory? This is quite close to a lie. What does Sammon fail to mention in his account of the Gore team’s endless excuses? He fails to mention the most important point, one which "Gore loyalists" made again and again; he fails to mention that no water was wasted in this activity, because the released water was used to generate electricity, as PG&E does at this dam every day. Weird, isn’t it? In his book, Sammon quotes "Gore loyalists" (not "Gore staffers") making every dumbass statement on earth, but he forgets to mention the seminal point—that the released water was put to its normal use, the daily generation of power. Sammon never says the water was "wasted;" that would be getting too close to a lie. But he gave the impression, early on, that citizens wouldn’t get to water their lawns because of this outrage; the story was "nothing short of amazing," he said. And wouldn’t you know it—he just never got around to clearing up the false impression that paragraph gave! He never mentions the one key point—that the released water had been put to its normal use, and that none of it, therefore, had been wasted. Instead, Sammon keeps saying the water came through the "floodgates," giving the wholly unnecessary impression it was just crazily spilled from the dam.

By now you may have seen a key point—spinning is a skill of omission. Think about the various things you aren’t told in Sammon’s first chapter:

1. You aren’t told who ordered the release of the water (Sharon Francis).
2. You aren’t told that the Gore campaign (or "Gore’s advance team") did not do so.
3. You aren’t told that the released water had nothing to do with washing cars, watering lawns, or relieving any effects of the drought.
4. You aren’t told that the released water was used to generate power.
5. You aren’t told that water was released from the dam every day.
6. You aren’t told that other groups had been accommodated in the way Gore was.
7. You aren’t told that no one but Sammon ever used the term "Floodgate."
8. You aren’t told that the national press largely took a hike on this story.

But you are told two ugly things about Gore. As Sammon sums up his ugly tale, he says what he learned from the incident:

According to Sammon, Gore "reflexively resorted to deception" in this mater, and he "dispatched staffers to attack" those who questioned him. We’ll take those two claims in reverse order.

Second ugly charge: Is it true? Did Gore "dispatch staffers to attack the messenger and anyone else who dared question" his message? That is, of course, an ugly charge—one for which Sammon gives precisely no examples. There are no examples provided of any such conduct, at any point in this chapter or book. Here is Sammon’s complete paragraph on the topic, much of which we have excerpted elsewhere:

Poor Billy! If you can find an example in there of anyone being "attacked"—let alone by "Gore staffers"—we’ll send him a nice crying towel. Here’s the background to what follows Sammon’s charge: On Day One of the silly flap, a PG&E employee incorrectly said that four billion gallons of water were released; the next day, the utility corrected the number. Who was being "attacked" in that, let alone by "attacked by Gore staffers? Sammon, making an ugly charge, makes no effort to support what he’s said.

First ugly charge: Why did Sammon say, in the passage above, that Gore "reflexively resorted to deception" in this matter? Because that is the major point of his tale—the reason Sammon begins his book with this trivial episode. As we’ve seen, it all came flooding back into Sammon’s mind as his plane was touching down in Florida—the sensitive scribe just somehow knew that Gore would soon be lying. What part of the sixteeen-month-old canoe trauma had Sammon so concerned this day? It was something Gore said to the poor, abused scribe on the day after the non-event happened.

On July 23, 1999, the Washington Times ran Sammon’s first canoe story. Later in the day, he interviewed Sharon Francis, that "local environmentalist." Here’s Sammon again in his book:

According to Sammon’s 7/24/99 Washington Times story, here’s what Gore specifically said to Francis: "I’m very familiar with fluctuating water levels. We’ve got that in Tennessee, too." The words appeared inside double quotes, attributed to Gore by Francis. Remember: all of this is said to have happened after the canoe trip was over.

It may be worth noting that Gore’s quoted remark doesn’t quite seem to make sense. Maybe he understood what Francis told him, and then again, maybe he didn’t. But poor Sammon! Deeply troubled by what Francis said, he hurried off to quiz Gore:

Notice how scrupulous Sammon is about not seeming to make accusations! But enough—Sammon’s story powers on:

Just by his hopeless use of language, Sammon says it: we have Watergate again. At any rate, this is the Great, Gigantic Lie that was troubling Sammon as he touched down in Florida—the Great Deception that let him know that Gore "would do anything to win, no matter how bad he looked or how ugly it got." For the record, when Sammon reported this incident in that 7/24/99 "front-page exclusive," Gore spokesman Chris Lehane was quoted saying that Gore had not understood Francis to be saying that water was released from the dam that day. This statement, like so many aspects of this story, is not mentioned in Sammon’s book.

Here at THE HOWLER, we have no way of knowing what Gore did or didn’t understand at the time. It may be that Gore knew what Francis said, and of course, it may be that he didn’t. But do candidates have some obligation to answer to every Tom, Dick and Billy? Candidates are less than forthcoming with scribes all the time, as Sammon, of course, knows full well. Consider an anecdote from Roger Simon’s campaign book, Divided We Stand. Simon describes Candidate Bush’s behavior on September 12, 2000—the morning on which the silly "subliminal advertising/DemocRATS" story broke on page one of the New York Times:

Here were the follow-up Q-and-As when Bush said he hadn’t heard of the story:

Does Bush seem fully forthcoming here? He rapidly changed his account when challenged, and it’s hard to believe that he hadn’t been fully briefed. In fact, it even seems possible that "when caught in a jam, Bush reflexively resorted to deception instead of just taking his licks and moving on." But why describe Bush’s minor evasions that way? Quite probably, Bush was doing just what Gore had done, if Gore did understand what Francis had said; quite probably, Bush was trying to avoid discussing a stupid story that was going to do him some harm. But here’s where the difference comes in. Simon thinks that Bush was faking—and he treats it as a minor aside, an amusing paragraph in a full-length book. Sammon thinks that Gore was faking—and he treats it as a Major Moral Offense, which shows that Gore "would do anything to win…no matter how ugly it got." And that, of course, is how things go when our discourse is given to dissemblers like Sammon. Dissembling and spinning with total abandon—refusing to state even the most basic facts—Sammon conjures a pleasing tale, pandering hard to his slice of book buyers. And, of course, the endless irony: Dissembling and spinning every step of the way, he tells us that Gore can’t be trusted! Having shown that he himself will do and say anything, he turns the ugly charge against Gore.

What exactly should free people do when their press corps is in the hands of people like Sammon—this pious man who slanders a public official so freely, then tells us how his mother, Theresa, was praying for him every step of the way? Who names the devoted children who did without Daddy while Daddy went to conjure deceptions? Over the past decade, dissemblers like Sammon have hijacked our discourse, spreading their misleading tales all around (a further note on how this happens tomorrow). And most amazing? In all this mess, Sammon never lies—arguably, not once, in his whole sorry chapter. Nope—when he lied about those concentric circles, he strangely did the one naughty thing the skilled pros almost never need to do.

In this chapter, it’s hard to find a single sentence that isn’t in some way designed to mislead. But as we will see (and as Bill Sammon knows), the lazy duffers at the head of our press corps are more than willing to let all this by.

Next: That "capital gang" does the election

Will do and say anything: Here again is the most remarkable paragraph in Sammon’s dissembling first chapter:

Remember—as Sammon fully understood when he wrote that passage, the water had nothing to do with the drought. It would never be used for watering lawns; it would never be used for washing cars. It would never be used for anything at all except producing electricity—and it was put to that use that day, although Sammon, plotting to mislead his readers, is quite careful never to say so.