As I have said many times before, I tend to be highly skeptical of grand conspiracy theories.  Elaborate and far reaching conspiracies are easy to concoct based on the natural tendency of people to piece together disparate information into a seemingly plausible string of causality to justify what they already are predisposed to emotionally embrace.  As the promo for the X-Files franchise neatly sums up:  I Want To Believe.

On the other hand, the skeptical side of me looks upon official government announcements and breaking news stories with equal suspicion, especially in light of the last eight years of coordinated disinformation and press manipulation issuing forth from the Bush White House.  If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

So I wake up this morning to the news that we have finally found the Lynndie England of the 2001 Anthrax scare, and his name is Bruce Ivins (hopefully no relation to Molly).  How convenient!  How neat and tidy!  We can finally take a breath of fresh non-anthrax tainted air now.

But a few things about this story bother me, not the least being the previously unsuccessful attempt to lay the blame at the feet of Steven Hatfill.  That didn't work because Hatfill fought back to clear his name.  The Fed won't make that mistake again.  Now the blame is being laid to rest at the feet of a dead man.  Don't expect much resistance here; not from Mr. Ivins, or his newly disgraced family.  I mean, if Pat Tillman's family can't get any answers . . .

What tales could this "dead man" tell if he hadn't so conveniently decided to off himself with Tylenol and Codeine because the coppers were getting close?  Seems like he saved the government the expense of a tedious trial, possible embarrassing revelations, or in the worst case scenario -- the truth.  Now we can close the books on this mystery and move on, right?  Wouldn't it be great if Osama bin Laden also turned up dead just before the elections, having hanged himself from a tree just outside his cave, with a letter professing his shame for his evil deeds?

So as I understand it, Ivins worked at Fort Detrick to find a vaccine for aerosolized anthrax.  He did not, mind you, work in producing the deadly anthrax, or specialize in making it more potently lethal.  His job was to "prevent" or "cure" the infection.  So what was his motivation to mail out anthrax and infect people?  Why only Democratic Senators?  Wouldn't he have been more motivated to FedEx the vaccine before or right after he infected them, to see if his vaccine worked?

Why was this guy, with a know history of recently worsening depression, given warning of his impending prosecution?  Most prosecutors know to take suspects into custody if there is a risk of flight.  The same is true if there is a risk of suicide (flight to heaven?).  In this case, it was as if Mr. Ivins brother was literally sent an invitation and RSVP card to attend his sibling's trial for mass-murder.  Is this the right man?  Does he have accomplices?  We'll never know now.  Again . . . how convenient!

I am also puzzled as to why a guy whose job description as toxicological microbiologist has him handling some of the most deadly substances know to man, should choose to commit suicide with over-the-counter Tylenol with Codiene.  Boy if that isn't an anticlimatic way out!  I would have snorted anthrax like coke, swigged Ebola, done whippits of Sarin and Cynanide gas, and for s***s and giggles, top it off with Puffer Fish sushi.

Maybe all of this is on the up and up, and I am being unnecessarily paranoid and cynical.  But when my alarm radio went off this morning, I could have sworn I was listening to TASS and not KJZZ.  When I read the details in our nation's most vaulted newspapers (USA Today and AZ Republic), I couldn't help but notice a passing resemblance to old-time PRAVDA headlines.  I had to wonder if a Bulgarian umbrella wasn't somehow involved in this guy's untimely demise. 

Dosvi daniya, comrades.