Figuring that yesterday's press conference announcing that a minimum of 500 chemical weapons had been found in Iraq might be considered newsworthy, I thought today's Inquirer would be worth a glance. Surely, I thought, there'd at least be some carefully dissembled skepticism (if not outrage) over the announcement. I expected to see experts debunking the claim, arguments that "old" WMDs don't count, etc.

What I didn't realize was that the story didn't qualify as news, and I'm not quite sure why. Whether you (or the Inquirer) like Santorum or not, he's one of Pennsylvania's senators, he's up for reelection, and this was a major announcement. According to logic, his WMD announcement was either on the level or it was not. But let's suppose it was not. Let's suppose (as Atrios argues) that Senator Santorum is a "wanker." Is it not of interest to readers of the largest newspaper in his home state that their senator has made a bogus or misleading announcement?

Or might there be a fear that some readers might believe Senator Santorum? I certainly hope that the Inquirer doesn't think that way, for it's a little condescending. I'd like to make up my own mind, but I guess if I wasn't online all the time, I wouldn't be able to evaluate my own senator's announcement, because I'd never have known about it.

Anyway, I had to spend far more time than usual with the paper, because I had to search out every nook and cranny for any trace of WMDs. I even got online. I searched for chemical weapons. Santorum. Hoekstra. Finally (at the Philly.com website) I found barest mention of the Santorum announcement -- buried deep in the text of an AP wire report titled "GOP, Democrats maneuver for advantage in Iraq debate":

With some Democrats saying the decision to go to war was a mistake, Sen. Rick Santorum, R-Pa., and House Intelligence Chairman Peter Hoekstra, R-Mich., tried to dispel arguments by Democratic lawmakers that no weapons of mass destruction were found in Iraq.

Santorum and Hoekstra released a newly declassified military intelligence report that said coalition forces have found 500 munitions in Iraq that contained degraded sarin or mustard nerve agents, produced before the 1991 Gulf War.

But a defense official, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said the weapons were not considered likely to be dangerous because of their age. Also, Democrats said a lengthy 2005 report from the top U.S. weapons inspector contemplated that such munitions would be found.

(Um, Can anyone tell me the definition of "a defense official"?)

Anyway, it appears that Pennsylvania voters who rely on the daily newspaper will remain blissfully ignorant that there is any debate about WMDs in Iraq, much less their senator's role in it.

And that's the way it is.

However, I still like the Inquirer, and having to search for signs of WMDs makes me read it avidly.

As my luck would have it, it was during my search for WMDs that I found the best analysis of Pennsylvania's proposed cell phone ban to date:

A Montgomery County legislator wants Pennsylvania to make drivers hang up their phones.

Unless the car has some sort of hands-free device.

State Rep. Josh Shapiro is about to introduce legislation that brings Pennsylvania into line with an increasing number of communities across the country and at least 45 countries worldwide. He says cell phones distract drivers more than anything else on the road, leading to more accidents.

Here's a confession: I am just what Shapiro's talking about.

Blinq's author Dan Rubin not only talks on his cell phone, he gets mad at distracted drivers who can't drive and talk at the same time -- something even more distracting than talking on his own cell phone:

If really mad, I do this with the other hand at the same time, and shake these modified cuckold signs while yelling something like GET OFF THE PHONE, MORON!

Blinq points out that they've had these laws in Europe for years:

When I lived in Europe, most countries had outlawed cells phones for drivers unless the devices were hands-free. I'd be talking to someone, and when passing a police car, would suddenly have to drop the phone onto the seat or risk fines worth hundreds of dollars. A dangerous law, I felt. Never got caught, but eventually almost every country I worked in had adopted the rule, concluding it made people safer.

I remember interviewing a professor in Germany who doubted cell phone bans would make the roads safer. Many other things distract drivers, he said, like men staring at women's breasts. Now that guy made sense.

There are plenty of things more distracting than cell phones. Try driving while eating an Egg McMuffin and drinking coffee; it's a lot harder than talking on the phone, yet people do it all the time. They also scratch their asses, rub their eyes, pick their noses, listen to distracting radio programs, and probably play with themselves. The cell phone seems to have three strikes against it: visibility, relative newness, and increasing frequency of use while driving. Why not ban disciplining the kids, playing video games, and Blackberry websurfing at the wheel? People certainly do these things -- especially when they're stuck in traffic. One reason is that we generally cannot see them doing it, so there's not as much public outrage. The other reason is that it comes down to legislating common sense. No sane person should read blogs or play tetris behind the wheel. Anyone insane enough to blog while driving (like this) should be taken out and shot. But do we need specific laws governing each and every possible distraction? From a legal standpoint, driver distraction for any reason constitutes negligence. That ought to be enough. But it isn't. Because thanks to ideas like "no-fault" the negligence of a driver no longer matters the way it once did. Therefore, people want to pass laws.

It's almost a way of getting even with things you don't like.

And if you think it will stop with a ban on hand-held cell phones, think again! Blinq also links to this USA Today report -- which cites a study "suggest[ing] that using a hands-free device instead of a handheld phone while behind the wheel will not necessarily improve safety. Interestingly, some see this as an argument against banning hand-helds, lest that lull drivers into a false sense of security:

Jim Champagne, chairman of the Governors Highway Safety Association, said the study reinforced the need for driver education. His organization urges state lawmakers to refrain from enacting handheld cell phone bans because they "incorrectly send the message to drivers that as long as they are hands-free, they are safe."

The point here is that the cell phone issue is itself distracting.

My search for WMDs was an exercise that drove me to distraction.

However, the fact that I devoted more time to cell phones than chemical weapons would make me a hypocrite if I demanded a higher standard from the Inquirer, wouldn't it?

Therefore, I find myself led inexorably to the conclusion that if Santorum really wants to get a write-up in the Inquirer, he should stick to the WMDs Pennsylvanians really care about.

(Such is life in the reality-based world. . .)

UPDATE: It appears that Santorum has known about the WMDs for more than ten weeks. As to why it took so long for citizens to have access even to this limited release of information (at least, in newspapers that think the existence of WMDs is news fit to print), Chester offers four interesting scenarios. Concludes Chester,

Whatever the explanation, it'll get interesting. The key is: did the White House know about them? The answer to that question will go a long way toward figuring out which of the above scenarios might be correct.

The more convincing the evidence of WMDs becomes, the louder the cries of "BUSH KNEW, PART II!"

UPDATE (06/23/06): A report on Santorum's press conference is on the front page of today's Inquirer.

My apologies for suggesting that they were keeping the story under wraps.

Online news moves at a much faster speed than print journalism, and because the press conference took place at 4:30 p.m. on Wednesday, I assumed that would be enough time to get it into the next day's edition.

I shouldn't be so impatient.