I suppose it was inevitable that the Great Liberal Sexual Harassment Purge would snare the Very Rev. Jesse Jackson:
After Jackson’s riveting and inspiring speech about the responsibility of black journalists, we all lined up to take a photo with him. One by one, we stepped up, shared a few words and thank-yous with Jackson, snapped photos and went back to our desks. Simple enough, right?
I walked toward Jackson, smiling, and he smiled back at me. His eyes scanned my entire body. All of a sudden, I felt naked in my sweater and jeans. As I walked within arm’s reach of him, Jackson reached out a hand and grabbed my thigh, saying, “I like all of that right there!” and gave my thigh a tight squeeze.
Meanwhile, the blast radius of the Harvey Weinstein explosion has blown over super-lawyer David Boies, who was implicated in some dodgy dealings in Ronan Farrow’s latest follow up story in the New Yorker. The New York Times, for whom Boies worked concurrently, is not pleased:
[Boies] denied there was any conflict of interest with his work for the paper.
But late in the day, the paper said it was ending its relationship with his firm.
“We never contemplated that the law firm would contract with an intelligence firm to conduct a secret spying operation aimed at our reporting and our reporters,” The Times said in a statement. “Such an operation is reprehensible.”
That’s going to leave a mark.
PAUL ADDS: Jesse Jackson! My goodness! Say it ain’t so!
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