Dear Chamber of Commerce: I have a modest proposal

As noted in the previous post, a recent leak revealed that the Chamber of Commerce has attempted to spy on, smear and stifle its critics, including Glenn Greenwald and Brad Friedman. The Chamber's contractor, HBGary, even compiled a profile of Friedman, using info gleaned from some rather sneaky and underhanded cyber-tactics.

Ghastly behavior? Oh yes.

But let's look at this from the standpoint of the Chamber of Commerce. Frankly, they were getting screwed. HBGary wanted a cool two million bucks for their efforts -- even though the dossier on Friedman is skimpy and unimpressive.

How are you gonna smear the guy when there's nothing to smear him with?

Now, I've actually been inside the apartment of Brad and his ladyfriend. Given sufficient palm greasage -- don't insult me by offering anything under five figures -- I could offer the Chamber first-hand insight into the dark world of Brad Friedman: The black masses, the aborted fetus recipe book, the emaciated children locked in the closet...

I could testify to all of that, but there's one problem: None of it is true.

He lives in a cozy place located somewhere within a seven-mile radius of the Hollywood sign. Rather nice old-fashioned furniture. Nothing very memorable. Nothing useful to anyone mounting a smear campaign.

Except...

I noticed, on my visit, an old print of a drawing by the famed American illustrator Rockwell Kent. Brad didn't know who the artist was until I told him (Kent's style is unmistakable). As I recall, either he or his ladyfriend had picked the thing up cheap at a garage sale or some similar venue. I told Brad that the print was possibly of some value.

Hm. Let's mull this one over. Maybe the Chamber of Commerce could do something with this...

Y'see, during the McCarthy witch hunts, Rockwell Kent -- best known for his illustrations of Moby Dick and the plays of Shakespeare -- came under suspicion of being a communist or fellow traveler. Infuriated by his treatment at the hands of HUAC, Kent (who never actually joined the Communist party) willed his work to the USSR. That was his way of saying neener to the ol' tailgunner.

Yeah. Now that has possibilities.

Here's the way I visualize the smear campaign: We'll put together a YouTube video juxtaposing Brad's face with that of Rockwell Kent, followed by a montage of Stalin, Beria, Lenin, the gulags, red flags, Marx, Europe in flames, the hammer and sickle, Soviet troops on the march. Naturally, the Internationale will play on the soundtrack...

Naw. That approach won't work.

All we have is one lousy art print, and there's only so much juice you can squeeze out of a thing like that. Besides, millions of people have owned books with Rockwell Kent illustrations.

No, we gotta get hold of something far more damning.

What we need is footage from inside chateau Friedman showing walls filled, and I mean filled, with classic Soviet propaganda posters. Maybe this "clandestine" video can also show Brad dressed as Che Guevara, smoking that famous cigar and wearing that stylish beret. Hey, wouldn't it be a coup to have video of Brad-as-Che handing out copies of The Communist Manifesto in front of the Chinese Theater?

I know what you're wondering: How the hell can the Chamber expect to get hold of such a video? The answer is simple: Pay Brad Friedman to smear himself.

I haven't actually talked this scheme over with him. But my guess is that for a modest sum -- say, $500,000, a mere quarter of the amount that HBGary wanted -- Brad would willingly stage such a video. Stalin posters, Che beret, the all-important cigar -- the whole trip.

Come on, Chamber. Think about it. Do the math.

Why pay HPGary two million bucks for a dossier filled with innocuous crap like this? How is that going to help you? For a fraction of the cost, you can get hard video evidence of Brad Friedman threatening the American way of life by turning our beloved Chinese Theater, a Hollywood landmark, into a Red propaganda forum.

You want an even better bargain? Pay me to smear me.

We're talking about actual video footage of my home in Baltimore decorated with altars to Satan, blood-filled chalices, inverted crosses -- the perfect place to stage horrifying BDSM-tinged occult rituals. As Mark Twain once put it: If that don't fetch 'em, I don't know Missouri.

Over the top, you say? Okay: How about tear-filled videos of women who have borne my children without receiving one dime of child support? How about footage of my dog Bella walking around Fort McHenry with an "I like Osama Bin Laden" sign pinned to her cute pink sweater?

The Cannon Report. Shocking. Disturbing. A video sure to go viral. Professionally shot and edited. And it's all yours, for the low, low price of -- oh, let's say $100,000.