Some days ago here, I cited a Jack Anderson statement that most of the things stamped Top Secret in Washington were classified not out of security concerns but because someone thought the information in question would embarrass them or expose wrongdoing. Tom Blanton elaborates on this in an article that includes this nugget…

Erwin Griswold, who as U.S. solicitor general prosecuted the New York Times in the Pentagon Papers case in 1971, once explained the real motivation behind government secrecy — but only years later, when he recanted his prosecutorial passion. Griswold persuaded three Supreme Court justices to vote for a prior restraint on the Times in the case. But in 1989, he confessed in a Washington Post Op-Ed article that there was no actual national security damage from the publication of the papers. "It quickly becomes apparent to any person who has considerable experience with classified material that there is massive overclassification and that the principal concern of the classifiers is not with national security, but with governmental embarrassment of one sort or another," he wrote.

I think there's an awful lot wrong with the press in this country, including a lack of accuracy — for reasons of competence, quite apart from any ulterior motives. And certainly there are legitimate government secrets that should not be splashed across Page One. But I'm unconvinced that any cries we've heard to prosecute reporters for National Security Leaks are anything more than desperate ploys by folks with a vested interest in not seeing government screw-ups and corruption exposed. And that's not just a criticism of the Bush administration and its supporters. It's more common than not in Washington and politics.

You might not want to watch it in its entirety — this one runs a little under 27 minutes — but I thought someone would appreciate the link to "Dogs of War," a 1923 silent Our Gang comedy produced by the Hal Roach Studio…and also starring the Hal Roach Studio. It begins with the kids staging war games on a vacant lot and segues to them visiting the Roach lot, though it's called something else. There, they get mixed up in the movie-making of the day and there are some nice views of the process. There's also an almost surreal (at least by 1923 standards) ending where the youngsters have made their own movie and it's full of odd visual effects. Harold Lloyd, who was then about the biggest name in film comedy, has a nice cameo about two-thirds of the way into the proceedings.

This was one of the better Our Gang comedies of the period and this copy has a serviceable musical score on it — one that is probably a lot like those ad-libbed at the time by organ accompanists in theaters around the world. There were a lot of "kid" comedies being made by film studios then but the cleverness of this one demonstrates why the Our Gang series was the most popular and the only one that has really endured.

And before someone asks: For reasons I never understood, not even after putting the question once to Mr. Roach himself, the series had a couple of different names, sometimes using "Our Gang" and sometimes not, and wasn't too picky about what it called itself until around 1932. That's when "Our Gang" became pretty much official. The films changed ownership a few times after that and there were other names and maybe someday if I can muster the courage, I'll attempt to explain the back-and-forth. Or maybe I'll take the easy way out and refer you to the definitive book on the subject, which was written by Leonard Maltin and Richard Bann, and which itself changed its name from Our Gang to The Little Rascals: The Life and Times of Our Gang. Very confusing stuff.

Matt Tauber writes…

It's interesting that in a city known for its high crime rate, this is what they've got the police working on. I wonder who was behind the initiative to arrest the video pirates.

The problem is, where does it stop? A friend of mine produces faux Aurora model kit boxes, often featuring characters who never had a kit. He was quizzed last year by Paul Levitz about them and told he was violating DC's copyright. He didn't say anything to the dealer next to my friend, who was selling drawings of DC characters and stained-glass replicas of DC character logos, for which DC receives nothing. I guess I'm asking if you want to stop the DVD bootleggers, do you also stop everyone else, even artists doing sketches? Convention operators always seem to get a pass when this debate comes up. Do you think this is something they should be policing, since they're benefiting from these dealers of unauthorized material?

To the first point: My guess would be that this was not a matter of the Detroit Police suddenly deciding they had nothing better to do than to go out and bust people selling unauthorized DVDs. My guess is that the M.P.A.A. (the producers' association) has put pressure on law enforcement agencies around the nation, starting with the FBI, and that senior agencies have passed the buck to lower agencies. And now that I think of it, the officers were probably less interested in the kind of bootleg I was describing — people selling shows they recorded off TV — than they were in pirated copies of current releases. No one pressures the law to take action against people pirating old episodes of Tennessee Tuxedo, though that may be an ancillary concern.

Of course, it's more important for the police to be arresting violent criminals but I don't think this is an either/or choice. It's also more important for them to be tracking down murderers than to be ticketing people who run stop signs but they have to occasionally ticket someone who runs a stop sign or else everyone would run stop signs.

Anyone who's in charge of protecting a copyright has a not-dissimilar problem deciding when to take action. There are egregious violations for which you have to summon the gendarmes (or pay legal fees) and those you decide not to pursue, either because they seem so trivial or because you're not sure some judge won't think they fall under the heading of "fair use." With the exception of a few known instances involving Disney, I've never heard of a copyright holder objecting to an artist selling a sketch or two. So my answer to the question "if you want to stop the DVD bootleggers, do you also stop everyone else, even artists doing sketches?" is "No, DC knows about it and they have the wherewithal to take action if they so elect. So if they're not bothered by people selling Superman sketches then I'm not going to let it bother me."

There are violations that even the violators would not argue were wrong and there are uses of others' copyrighted material that are considered acceptable. In between, there's an area that's extremely gray and arguable, and which often must be argued on a case-by-case basis. Its parameters get loosely defined by how proprietors object or give tacit approval…but selling a DVD of someone else's copyrighted material reproduced in full is well into the "violation" standard.

One other thing I should point out: When someone has a property and they sell licenses to other companies to exploit that property, they enter into business arrangements that are usually based on exclusivity. For example, if you go to Disney and pay them for the right to make Mickey Mouse cuspidors, the standard contract will stipulate (a) that Disney grants you the exclusive rights to make 'em, (b) that Disney has the legal right to grant you that exclusive license and (c) that Disney will defend your exclusive right. If I then go out and start bootlegging Mickey cuspidors and Disney doesn't stop me, they're in breach of their contract with you. Which is why they'd probably be more aggressive in stopping the counterfeit spittoons than they might be over some other infractions. I take a pretty liberal view of what constitutes "fair use" but I also recognize that some uses of others' property are not fair and need to be stopped.

It's the opening of an episode of Puppet Playhouse, the show that came to be better known as Howdy Doody. I don't know the date but this is an early clip so that's probably Bob Keeshan in the clown costume.

The obits for Lew Anderson, who died last week, said that he was the third and final actor to play Clarabell the Clown on the original Howdy Doody program. I believe there were at least four. Bob Keeshan, as we all know, was the first and the character was largely an accident. Keeshan, who then worked as an assistant and go-fer for host "Buffalo" Bob Smith, was assigned to herd around the kids who sat in the show's famous Peanut Gallery and to get them to shut up while Smith told stories, sang and fraternized with the show's puppet players. He kept getting on camera and someone suggested that the drab-looking guy in the sport coat didn't fit in with the program's circus theme. "Put that guy in a clown suit," they said…and that's how Clarabell was born. Keeshan researched clown makeups and devised one for himself — a pretty good one, as it turned out. Clarabell never spoke, in part because the show didn't want to pay Keeshan extra and in part because he really couldn't.

Years later — to make a living in children's television — Bob Keeshan learned how to talk on camera, and this made possible his legendary character, Captain Kangaroo. But back in his Howdy Doody days, he couldn't deliver lines and couldn't do much of anything. To the ongoing frustration of "Buffalo" Bob, who liked music on the show, Clarabell couldn't play an instrument…couldn't even master the triangle, despite repeated attempts to teach him. At least once, they let Keeshan go and put the clown suit on a professional musician who didn't work out. The replacement could accompany Smith but he flopped at replicating the Clarabell personality and when viewers (and more critically, licensors) complained, Bob Keeshan was hired back and Clarabell went back to being non-musical. Later, when Keeshan was fired for the last time, he was replaced by Bob Nicholson and then Anderson, both of whom were musicians.

The one time I met and talked with Bob Keeshan, he told me that his successors had pleased Smith and had also "nicened" the clown a touch, which he did not think was a bad thing. At times, Clarabell was a pretty nasty clown, less interested in making anyone laugh than in just spraying seltzer on other cast members out of sheer meanness. Keeshan mused that his first creation probably appealed to the worst in children, whereas his greatest (Cap'n Kangaroo) probably brought out their best.

I never met Lew Anderson but he was the Clarabell I knew as a viewer. I was never a very steady one because Howdy Doody was on the downslope by the time I was old enough to know what I was watching on TV. Much of the show's appeal was lost on me, at least when the clown was not on screen. When I watched at all, I watched for him…and I do remember viewing live that sad day when they aired the final episode and Clarabell broke his silence and said, "Goodbye." Goodbye, Lew Anderson. I hope someone at the funeral had the guts to get up and talk about "A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down my pants…"

The Motor City Comic Convention got underway yesterday in Novi, Michigan, which is just outside of Detroit. I haven't seen any online news reports yet but two attendees have e-mailed me that the convention was "swarming" (both used that word) with police. No, they weren't looking for Jimmy Hoffa. My correspondents say the authorities were arresting (even handcuffing) dealers who were selling bootleg videotapes. There have been busts like this at other cons but if the accounts e-mailed to me are accurate, this one was scary in its scope and seriousness — enough to perhaps finally end the selling of pirated videos at conventions.

For those of you who don't get to cons: There's a thriving industry out there in video piracy…people who mass-produce videotapes and DVDs of copyrighted material in which they do not hold any copyright. Sometimes, it's a matter of just replicating commercial video releases and selling them cheaper…or selling copies of tapes and DVDs that are now out of print. There are also those who have pirated copies of new movies not yet available on video but more often lately, the bootleggers are producing videos of old TV shows or movies taped off the air or transferred from 16mm prints. While they sometimes find and offer very rare material, the fact remains that the material is still stolen.

I've had a few conversations at cons with folks who traffic in this area and have been amazed at the rationales for theft. Sometimes, the defense is just that they're not making a lot of money off these videos…which may be true but, you know, stealing small is still stealing. Sometimes, one hears the notion that it's not ignoble to rip off Time-Warner or Disney because, let's face it, those companies make skillions and perhaps are not always 100% honest in their pursuit of profits. Above and beyond the obvious flaw in that argument is the fact that the video pirates rarely spare the small producer or filmmaker…and that even a Disney bootleg cheats "little guys" like writers and voice actors who don't receive their contracted residuals.

The most frequent alibi is that the sellers aren't really doing it for the money…or at least, doing it just for the money. They're doing it as a public service since the folks who own the material in question are selfishly or thoughtlessly withholding it from the public. This is another way of saying the rights holders haven't gotten around yet to issuing the show or movie on home video but still, it almost sounds like a valid point. Doesn't change the fact that we're talking here about copyright violations but it sounds good.

I'll tell you how low some video buccaneers have sunk: They're even bootlegging stuff I wrote. The three DVD covers above are from complete collections of shows I worked on. People have taped these shows off Cartoon Network and The Disney Channel, and edited DVDs of them which they sell quite openly. I got all three cover images off eBay. (An authorized, legal collection of the Dungeons and Dragons animated series will be issued later this year, by the way. I'm guessing the others will follow within a year or two.)

I guess in a very small way, I feel sorry for some of the guys who got busted yesterday. They all seem to think they're creating product, not filching someone else's — or if they're stealing, they're stealing from someone else's bootlegs. Some of them have even put a lot of work into their editing and art direction and take great pride in their handiwork. But I don't feel sorry enough to not think they should have known this was going to happen…and that it's about time it was stopped.

Well, Karl Rove wasn't indicted today so we'll put another $100 in the jackpot…

This is great. The L.A.P.D. has had a man named Stephen Albert Briller on its "Ten Most Wanted" list since November of 2004. They can't seem to find him but a blogger has.

Dan DeCarlo was a lovely man who drew lovely women. Many of them were for Archie where, though he didn't invent the house art style, he still managed to become the guy everyone else looked at to see how to do it. And beyond the staggering quantity of work he did for that company, he also managed to do a staggering quantity for other publishers and even for men's magazines and other venues.

A bountiful sampling of his work is on display in the just-released volume, The Art of Dan DeCarlo, written by my friend (and more importantly, Dan's friend) Bill Morrison. A lot of books about great comic artists are labors of love and this one sure qualifies. Bill had unlimited access to Dan's widow and personal collection…and Bill already had a great collection of DeCarlo work from which to draw. Beyond the art, he tells the story of Dan's life — triumphs and tragedies, both — with passion and accuracy. This one has our highest recommendation so here's an Amazon link to get one.

You're probably familiar with the work of Peter S. Beagle. If you're not, you owe it to yourself to discover this fine writer of fantasy and to treat yourself to one of his books. Peter will be a Guest of Honor at this year's Comic-Con International and I hope I get the chance to meet him.

One of his most acclaimed works was a book called The Last Unicorn, which was made into a popular animated feature. A couple tonweights of DVDs have reportedly been sold so you'd figure, hey, that Peter S. Beagle is probably raking in the bucks, right? Not so. I get a lot of e-mails asking me how movie deals work and how you can protect your interests when you make one. There's no easy answer beyond the obvious, which is to get a good lawyer and be wary…and even that doesn't work some of the time. It may help to note certain cautionary tales like the one recounted on this website which claims that Beagle is getting shafted.

I'm not taking sides on the contract dispute. There are always two sides and we have here but one. Still, it feels very wrong that the author of The Last Unicorn apparently hasn't shared in the proceeds from his creation, and I refer you to this as a cautionary note. I also refer you to this page where you can help him out by purchasing a Peter S. Beagle book. You won't be disappointed.

Some time in the eighties, Liza Minnelli became one of those performers defined by impressionists. When people think of Ed Sullivan these days, a lot of them think of Will Jordan doing Ed or some other comic doing Will Jordan doing Ed. When they think of Tom Snyder, many folks think of Dan Aykroyd's savage mimicking. When they think of Elvis, they often think of any of the 87,461 people currently making a living imitating The King and replicating his excesses. And Liza? They probably think of any number of drag queens out there who exaggerate her mannerisms to MAD Magazine scale. Ms. Minnelli's tendency to live up to the caricature and to engage in tabloid fodder marriages have not helped us to keep the genuine article in focus. It's easy to forget she was a great musical comedy performer.

The newly-reissued Liza With a Z is one good reminder. Another is our link today — a six minute number that Liza did at a 1992 Carnegie Hall celebration of Stephen Sondheim. Abetted by the great pianist Billy Stritch and a bevy of comely dancers, Ms. Minnelli offered a nice but slightly unorthodox rendition of "Back in Business," a number Sondheim wrote for the 1990 Dick Tracy movie starring Warren Beatty. Here it is. Let the good times roll…

For what it's worth: About two weeks ago, a friend asked me if I'd like to get into a "When will Karl Rove be indicted?" pool. Well, actually I think it's about guessing when an indictment will be formally announced, assuming one ever is.

I have no idea if Rove will be indicted or if so, how that process is progressing. In fact, I'm not even sure what (if anything) I'd win for being right. Nevertheless, just on a whim, I said, "May 19." That's tomorrow.

Michael Kinsley on John McCain, the man who has a reputation for "straight talk," no matter how he bobs and weaves.

Kinsley's article reminds me of something, which is the extent to which some supporters are willing to accept that their chosen candidate is hiding his true views in order to perhaps get elected. Years ago on the old Lou Gordon TV show — and am I the only one who remembers Lou Gordon? — I once saw a man make an interesting presentation. His thesis was that a number of then-current candidates, mostly from the South, were using code words in their speeches.

They couldn't come right out and say they were for rolling back Civil Rights for minorities because then they'd lose. So they'd developed certain phrases that when uttered, would convey their true agendas to voters of like sentiment. A sentence like, "We must protect the sanctity of state governments" sounded reasonable but it really meant, "We must stop Federal Troops from coming in and insisting we let blacks in white classrooms." The gent on Lou Gordon's show ran several clips that, he said, were examples of this. He called them "winks." They were a way of saying one thing and then winking at a certain segment of the electorate to let them know you didn't really mean it; that your heart was with them and they should just accept that you had to say such things to get into office and give them what they want. Whether those particular examples were valid or not, I do think politicians do that a lot. They also bait-and-switch the other way, hinting they'll do the opposite when they really won't. Wish I knew which kind McCain was. Maybe both.

Why are we still looking for Jimmy Hoffa?

I just revised the text of the previous item. When I wrote it at 2:30 this morning, I could've sworn that the film version of Cabaret won the Best Picture Oscar that year and said so. As teeming multitudes are now reminding me, that is not so.

A number of you have suggested that I just stamp Top Secret on my screw-up and claim some sort of National Security Privilege to cover it up. Not a bad idea. If I can tap enough reporters' phones, I might even get away with it.