Billionaires & Ballot Bandits: Karl Rove and the Republican Dark Art of Election Theft
Continued from previous page
“Caging” is a technical term used in the direct mail business. So, who knows the direct mail biz and could use Griffin’s personal computer?
Griffin’s boss, Rove, knows about “caging.” A lot. He became rich as owner of a direct mail company and was, in college, the CREEP computer whiz-kid who first introduced computer database mining in politics for Richard Nixon.
And he’s infamously careful never to use his own computer.
So who used your computer, Tim? And then made you resign as prosecutor, shut up about the facts...and get the Kochs to buy you a seat in Congress?
Conyers told me he had loads of questions about this for Mr. Rove—who simply ignored the congressman’s subpoena.
So we’ll never know if the creep who sent out the caging lists was Karl Rove, his Rove-bot Griffin, or, a third possibility, Griffin’s own gofer, Matt Rhoades.
While Griffin is now an Honorable Congressman (or, at least, a congressman), at the time, his career, following the BBC exposé, appeared to be toast. Indeed, John McCain dumped a high post for Griffin in his 2008 presidential campaign after the caging connection was made public.
But there is redemption. In 2012, Griffin’s gofer, Matt Rhoades, was named director of the Romney presidential campaign.
A Few Good Men (Very Few)
Bobby Kennedy may think that Griffin’s scheme to remove legal voters from the rolls was illegal, but Bush’s Justice Department was not likely to bust one of their own.
Nevertheless, Griffin wasn’t taking any chances. Neither was his boss, deputy chief of staff to the president and consigliere to the Bush reelection campaign, Karl Rove.
They feared there might be honest federal prosecutors. They could cause problems with The Plan to cage and challenge voters in 2004, in 2008, and beyond.
So, a directive came down from Main Justice in Washington to federal prosecutors nationwide: hunt for fraudulent voters. However, the lawmen were not told about an unwritten footnote to the directives: unsuccessful hunters would soon find themselves hunted.
I too was hunting for fraudulent voters—a good journalist should give evil the benefit of the doubt. So I went to New Mexico to bag myself a killer-rapist-illegal-alien-
But I was having a helluva time finding even one, despite three million having lost their vote to prevent this terrible crime.
But then, in October 2008, a state legislator in New Mexico, Justine Fox-Young, held up two pieces of paper in the capitol building showing, she said, 28 cases of someone voting with someone else’s name. It wasn’t a crime wave, but a kind of gentle ripple. So I called her and told to her to fax me the evidence. She didn’t. I called again and asked the crimebuster politician, “Justine, you’ve uncovered felony criminals.”
Cool. So did she turn over these villains to the federal prosecutors?
So, did the prosecutor arrest them? Lock 'em up?
The answer was, not even remotely. I called the federal prosecutor, a rising star in the Republican Party, US Attorney David Iglesias. He found Ms. Fox-Young’s evidence just a load of bollocks, though he didn’t use those words, I’ll admit.
Iglesias hadn’t arrested one single person in the entire state for voter fraud, despite the fact that the GOP campaign to prevent “fraud” in the state had resulted in the rejection of 28,000 voters and ballots, almost all Democrats.
In other words, the guy in charge of enforcing the law had not and would not bust a single person for the crime that justified his party’s pogrom against Hispanic voters all across the Southwest.