In times of war, the watch dogs take no prisoners.
By Jose Terrero
My weekly wing night turned a little sour. As I gorged down my usual raspberry honey mustard wings, I scanned the wall of TV screens at Greene’s Ale House in Oswego. MTV (no), ESPN (can’t stand watching golf), Stephen Colbert (stupid re-runs). Finally, I checked a monitor at one of the far corners of the bar. CNN anchors spoke excitedly as I hurried to read the text running along the bottom of the screen. Sweaty journalists ranted on for hours about the breaking WikiLeaks story.