This is unbelievable and speaks volumes to the current state of ethics in the journalistic community. Say you are wanted person on Interpols watch list, with at least 2 outstanding warrants for your arrest and currently at the center of a firestorm over your attempts to cripple the world's sole remaining super power through the release of sensitive communications, where would you hide?
The Frontline Club in London is the kind of place where war correspondents and investigative reporters mingle with admirers and wannabes, fired by a shared passion for exposing government spin, revealing the truth — and fine dining.
So when WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange found himself at the center of an international firestorm over the website's publication of leaked U.S. diplomatic cables, he knew where he would be well-fed and, more importantly, safe.
He has been there for three weeks. This is equivalent to some sort 30's era gangster hanging out in a posh resort hobnobbing with the locals while the entire FBI is combing the countryside looking for you.
So now while Asshat's minions continue to wage a cyber war, attacking all who they view as enemies of their state these journalists pat themselves on their back, for what I ain't exactly sure.
In much the same way that I tell people who want to raise taxes on the rich that nothing prevents them from voluntarily sending more money to the government, I tell these folks who believe in being so open to post their addresses and phone numbers and personal schedules. After all there shouldn't be any secrets now, should there?
Go ahead. I dare you to tell me about journalistic integrity. That is as much a by gone memory as a hookers virginity.