The Batshit Identity

@AndrewMitrovica Jan 29
Most “national security” reporters have no memory, just like #CSIS and #CSE. If they did and read my book, NONE of this would be “news.”

The recent flap over CSIS snooping into taxpayers’ personal information without a warrant prompted the usual pissing and moaning about the national spook agency’s naked contempt for our great Canadian legal institutions and honk, honk, honk.

Of course, no pundit can bitch and bewail like Andrew “Batshit” Mitrovica, the sanctimonious fraud and columnist for iPolitics.

In his latest fluffer, Mitrovica drones endlessly about how he, as the foremost authority on the national spy business, has for years been blowing his whistle about their shadowy ops.

“Turn back the clock to 2002, when my book on CSIS, Covert Entry was published…I devoted a chapter…I wrote a story…I have reported in the past… and then there’s the story of [insert name of low-level CSIS hack here.]”

You’d think Batshit would cease fluffing himself, given the scorching reviews his book received upon publication:

Covert Entry has nothing to say about CSIS’s main mission, because its man on the street, John Farrell, was never involved in such investigations. Relevancy, particularly in our post-Sept. 11 world, is what is missing here.”
–Wesley Wark, Globe and Mail, Nov. 9, 2002.

“Spy book lacks credibility…Ah yes, the old right-to-know justification. Do you buy that? I don’t. I refer to this type of hypocrisy on the part of authors, common in tell-all books, as the suspension of normal journalistic disbelief.”
–Charles Rusnell, Calgary Herald, Dec. 14, 2002.

Curiously, whenever Mitro celebrates his glory days as an investigative hack with the Globe and Minion, circa 2000, his memory grows selective.

That year he attended a high-level conference on security and intelligence at the Chateau Laurier in Ottawa.

Among the spooks on his panel was then-CSIS supremo Ward Elcock, who Mitro proceeded to harangue, accusing a bewildered Elcock of peddling bullshit. Wagging his finger in his face, Mitro ranted that Elcock should be ashamed of himself for his blatant nosestretchers.

Later, when he found himself spurned by fellow spooks, the voices in his head began mumbling again, and Mitro worried that someone would complain about his whacko performance to his boss, Globe publisher Phil “Creepy” Crawley.

So he jumped on the phone to blubber to a colleague that Crawley was going to fire him, begging her to call the boss and “go to bat for me.”

She refused and told the tearful Mitrovica to make his own apologies.

Batshit survived the incident, only to piss off Globe management the following year with yet another bipolar performance.

Exit Batshit, foaming.

But perhaps Mitro is finally coming to his senses.

He tweeted this last week: “Every columnist has a life-expectancy. I often feel that I’m nearing the end of mine.”

And so say we all!

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