I know many who read this will fall into two neat rows: A) Why, dumb-dumb, do you even pay attention to this?; and B) We don't care, stop whining, go take a nothing day and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile.
But nearly 30 years ago I began to have the singular experience of being written about and found it instantly valuable for any journalist or writer, because you get to watch in real-time as other journalists and writers make mistakes, flub facts, mishear quotes, or, often, deliberately lie, leave out inconvenient facts, or throw the ones they do use completely out of proportion. Only you know the literal truth (if you're lucky), and thus only you can fully measure how goldarned wrong the other guy is. It would make me shudder to think that I might be trampling over as many sweet tulips of accuracy in my own work.
Today, of course, there is the added dimension of political character assassination, which turns the game of mistakes and/or misdirections into three-dimensional Star Trek chess. And this is one of those stories.