Back when I lived in Alaska, a guy named Mike Doogan wrote a column for the Anchorage Daily News.  He was funny and took swipes at most everyone and everything.  I liked reading his column.  Then one day he announced his "I Want to Write Like Mike" contest in which readers were encouraged to write and submit columns of their own.  He chose three winners and mine was one of them.  My column, something to do with litter found along hiking trails, ran below the fold in the Sunday edition of the paper.  I was very excited and grateful to Mike for the opportunity.  Soon after, I landed a guest columnist slot at the paper.  I’ve always thought of my little "Mike" victory as the confidence booster I needed to write and submit my work.

Some time after we left Alaska, Mike Doogan was elected to the Alaskan legislature.  He’s now a Democratic house representative for people in Anchorage.  When Zippy and I found out, we laughed but weren’t too surprised; the Alaska political scene has always been strange.

This past weekend Alaska politics took another bizarre twist.

Representative Mike Doogan decided to out an anonymous political blogger.

AKMuckraker via The Mudflats: Tiptoeing Through the Muck of Alaskan Politics, came to national attention during the 2008 campaign when John McCain selected AK governor Sarah Palin to be his running mate.  AKMuckraker wrote about Gov Palin’s job performance and the many sticky ethical issues surrounding Palin and her family.  The Mudflats educated voters in a way no other media did.

It seems Rep Mike Doogan didn’t have a problem with AKMuckraker going after Palin (in fact, he penned his own column on the subject.)  Doogan got his knickers in a knot when AKMuckraker wrote about Rep Doogan’s rude, dismissive emails to constituents.  That’s when Doogan made it his duty to figure out the identify of the person behind The Mudflats.  Even though, as AKMuckraker stated in a post this weekend:

It said in my “About” page that I choose to remain anonymous.  I didn’t tell anyone why.  I might be a state employee.  I might not want my children to get grief at school.  I might be fleeing from an ex-partner who was abusive and would rather he not know where I am.  My family might not want to talk to me anymore.  I might alienate my best friend.  Maybe I don’t feel like having a brick thrown through my window.  My spouse might work for the Palin administration.  Maybe I’d just rather people not know where I live or where I work.  Or none of those things may be true.  None of my readers, nor Mike Doogan had any idea what my personal circumstances might be.  But that didn’t seem to matter.

Doogan didn’t care about AKMuckraker’s privacy.  Doogan decided it was more important to use his resources as an elected official to play private eye and then broadcast his findings in a legislative newsletter.  

I don’t know what happened to the Mike Doogan who gave me a huge boost.  I don’t know the source of his anger and bitterness.  But I do know that in launching an assault against free speech and the first amendment, Doogan changed my mind: I no longer want to write like Mike.

I stayed true to my writing plan today and did not turn on my desk top computer (aka internet connection) until I’d written 1000 words.  And what was my reward? 

Oh, happy day!

Ted and I go way back. 

When I lived in Anchorage I worked hard to protect the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge from drilling.  One cold, winter day I stood in front of the library with another volunteer and gathered signatures on a petition calling for protection of the Arctic Refuge.  For those of you who have petitioned, you know how it is: you launch into your spiel as soon as someone comes close and if that person isn’t interested, you turn to the next and start over.  You don’t pause to think because you’re on automatic pilot.  Zippy could’ve walked up and I would have been halfway through my pitch before realizing who I was talking to.

You can guess where this is headed.

I was just turning away from another person when an angry little white man in a suit came walking up.  I said, “Hello, would you like to sign a petition to protect the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge from oil drilling?”

Angry Little White Man In a Suit replied, “I’m Senator Ted Stevens.  Stop wasting my time.”

As he stalked away, I contemplated shouting “You look taller on television!”

I’ve always regretted that temporary lapse into maturity.  But that wasn’t my only regret.  The Anchorage Daily News refused to print my letter to the editor about the encounter with “my” representative.  The editor said I would hurt my “cause” by admitting I hadn’t recognized the legendary Senator Stevens.  (I didn’t even try the other paper – the Anchorage Times because it was owned by oil patch executive  Bill Allen.  If you read today’s indictment article, you’ll see Bill’s name mentioned a few times.  Ahem.)

Anyway, I know it’s bad form to gloat, but that’s what I’m doing.  In this era, it’s especially gratifying when the arrogant greed-heads get what’s coming to them.