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The Masochistic Justiciar

Smithsonian Magazine has an interesting article about "The CIA Burglar Who Went Rogue."

The short version? Douglas Groat, a former Green Beret and police officer, became an elite CIA agent. After a mission got screwed up, Groat started complaining and trying to hold people accountable. He was warned to cut it out, but kept the pressure up. Eventually he was demoted, then fired.

At that point, he starts putting pressure on his former employer by leaking about a bug he'd planted to a foreign government. And he similarly kept pressure up, asking for $500,000 in severance sicne he'd lost his pension, retirement, and income after what had happened.

Now, here's the really interesting part.

The CIA actually offered Groat a contractor's position that would take him until his retirement, when he'd be eligible for his normal pension. They were offering him $300,000.

Just a Little Freewriting I started at work...

On Suicidal MacGuyver

Warren wants me to sit straight. He says don't cross your legs. Instead prefers me to keep my knees locked together firmly, yet subtly, with my hands in my lap, ready to secure my dress from any attempt to rise, like I was some little fantasy of the past.

As he sits across from me, sipping his tea, we listen without emotion to some twee indie band whose name I hadn't bothered to remember. On vinyl, of course. But that wasn't me when he wasn't there. When he's not around I might listen to Poison on the radio, or Bob Seager, or even sometimes when I'm feeling really naughty, Jimmy Buffet. I hate Jimmy Buffet, mind you. But listening to him, singing about cheeseburgers and cliches, just knowing how it would destroy Warren to see me gaining such pleasure from something so low brow, made me gain a true appreciation for the man in the Hawaiian shirts.

When Warren's at home we only watch British dramas, Reruns of Leave It To Beaver (he watches it ironically, of course), or foreign films. Occasionally, when he's had a joint or two, he'll put on some stand-up comedy, but only if it's cynical and edgy enough.

When he's at work though I'll flip on some Dancing With The Stars, or if I'm really angry with him, Three And A Half Men.

For dinner he made us two bowls of Udon, which I had said was exquisite. We ate on the handcrafted floor mats of course--Warren is an ardent believer in minimalism. He didn't know that in the hideaway ottoman was a full bag of nacho cheese Doritos that would be devoured and disposed of by tomorrow morning.

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