Top Obama aide Valerie Jarrett's staff called the cops to kick me out of a media area last night when I questioned her about drone strikes.
As I sat up in the rafters listening to some Democratic National Convention speech — I don't even particularly remember which one — Jarrett suddenly appeared to my right. She was being interviewed on camera by some television hack; I don't even particularly know whom. So I rose from my seat and observed. There was an unnerving coldness about Jarrett's demeanor — naturally, she laughed and smiled for the camera, bantering obligingly. But callousness underlain this guise of mainstream jocular propriety. I could see it in her eyes.