I find myself endlessly fascinated by the Wikileaks story. The principles and ideas involved are visceral and immediate, and the man behind them, Julian Assange, is a secretive, prickly, arrogant character worthy of a great novel.
The recent article in the New York Times Magazine about the Times’ interactions with Assange is a must-read for anyone interested in the Wikileaks drama.
“On the fourth day of the London meeting, Assange slouched into The Guardian office, a day late. Schmitt took his first measure of the man who would be a large presence in our lives. ‘He’s tall — probably 6-foot-2 or 6-3 — and lanky, with pale skin, gray eyes and a shock of white hair that seizes your attention,’ Schmitt wrote to me later. ‘He was alert but disheveled, like a bag lady walking in off the street, wearing a dingy, light-colored sport coat and cargo pants, dirty white shirt, beat-up sneakers and filthy white socks that collapsed around his ankles. He smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in days.’
Assange shrugged a huge backpack off his shoulders and pulled out a stockpile of laptops, cords, cellphones, thumb drives and memory sticks that held the WikiLeaks secrets.”