And another wave of layoffs hits IBM’s domestic operations. And, again, IBM is being completely tight-lipped about the cutbacks. All we know is that dozens of Vermonters (at least) have lost their jobs at Essex Junction. Alliance@IBM, a union group, estimates this week’s layoffs at over 1600 nationwide, and it expects the total to go higher.

This is said to be part of a global reorganization and/or a response to a disappointing earnings report. But really, it’s one more step in IBM’s steady abandonment of America. According to Alliance@IBM, the corporation employed more than 134,000 people in the US in 2005; by the end of 2012, that number had fallen to 91,000. And obviously, it’s still trending downward. (IBM won’t give any layoff or employment figures nationally or for any individual location for what it calls “competitive reasons,” but you know what the truth is: they’re trying like hell to avoid bad publicity.

So, nobody outside of IBM knows how many people are employed at Essex Junction, and nobody outside of IBM knows how many are losing their jobs this week. Is this what it means to be a good corporate citizen? In his written response, Governor Shumlin seems to be discreetly backing away from Our Valued Corporate Partner:

Vermont’s partnership with IBM is very important, but our state is not immune to the forces that are driving this decision in the larger organization.

In other words, “Don’t put your eggs in a Big Blue basket.” And “Don’t blame me if IBM walks away.”

IBM spokesflack Jeff Couture was shoveling the rhetorical manure as fast as he could:

Change is constant in the technology industry, and transformation is an essential feature of our business model. Consequently, some level of workforce remix is a constant requirement for our business.

Nice and neat. Antiseptic, almost. Just a simple “workforce remix.”

After the jump: the human dimension.

And now, let us sashay over to the Alliance@IBM website and witness the human cost of these corporate buzzwords. (All these were posted Tuesday or Wednesday by laid-off IBM workers in Vermont.)

RA’d this am @ BTV. 34 years…. Mixed emotions – relief, humiliation, anger…wanted to leave on my own terms but I guess I’ll take their blood money. Company is F’d any way. … Re-evaluating my IBM stock holdings. Good luck and good riddance! –Anonymous

I was RA’d today from STG Burlington with 31 years of service. –Vermonter

Today, IBM Essex Junction, VT. 93 layoff from Engineering department.. I am lucky one of them.. Bye Bye.. IBM.. Hope my manager will be in 3rd Qtrs.. lay off .. –Tintin

Let go today after 26 years of service. 80% of my dept gone, as well as 80% of sister dept. These cuts were in Essex Junction, Fishkill, and Austin. –Anonymous

Invited to leave this morning. 28 yrs engineer at IBM. And now for something completely different… –anonBTV

Hearing from a friend who works in the Essex Jct. VT, plant that dozens of engineers have been told they no longer have jobs. –Anon-Essex VT

STG Vermont affected today. Standard 30 day notice, 1 week pay per 6 months up to 6 months pay. –Hit Today

Adding insult to injury, the laid-off workers won’t get any pension accrual for their last six months on the job. That’s because IBM now pays into its pension once per year (on December 31, natch) rather than monthly. Slick.

Earl Mongeon summed it up best, in remarks to VTDigger. He’s a 35-year IBMer and an Alliance@IBM organizer:

“It’s like the bully at the schoolyard,” Mongeon said. “He comes one day and takes your lunch money, he comes the next day and takes your lunch, he comes the next and takes something else.”

… “There’s really not a future for people who want to build a career there,” he said.

Damn straight.  

The public face of the existentially challenged Vermont Health CO-OP is CEO Christine Oliver, a former top official in the Shumlin and Douglas Administrations. But the motive force behind the company is Board Chair Mitch Fleischer. It was he, Oliver says, who had the idea to form a CO-OP under the terms of the Affordable Care Act. She outlined his crucial role at a recent media briefing:

The CO-OP is not even an potion for Vermonters without Mitch Fleischer. When the application was before the [federal government], he was the linchpin; he could bring a lot of things the CO-OP would need to be successful.

She portrayed her business partner as sort of a cross between Martin Luther King and Thomas Edison: a public-spirited entrepreneur bringing his talents to bear for the betterment of the community.

But that’s not the only way to describe Fleischer’s motivations. There’s this, from Anne Galloway of VTDigger:

In the spring of 2011, Fleischer, who has worked as an insurance broker for 30 years, was critical of the Shumlin administration’s plans to limit all insurance products for small businesses to insurers on the state exchange. The federal law also cut brokers, who made about $17 million a year on commissions, out of the system.

That fall, Fleischer made plans to create the CO-OP as a way to salvage business for his company.

And that, boys and girls, is a whole nother hovercraft full of eels. It’s a picture — not of an entrepreneur doing public service in the private sector — but of a desperate businessman latching onto a new opportunity in the ACA’s generous startup funding for state health CO-OPs.

Next step: the nascent VHC, with Fleischer as board chair, signs a no-bid contract with Fleischer’s brokerage firm to provide education, outreach, and large group sales. A contract that could net as much as a million bucks a year.

Nice work if you can get it.  

Fleischer’s potential conflict of interest was noted by Susan Donegan, Commissioner of Financial Regulation, in her rejection of VHC’s bid for a certificate of public good. Fleischer and Oliver insist that there is no conflict, because VHC has high ethical standards and the contract was thoroughly vetted by the feds.

I don’t know if there was an actual conflict of interest or not, but it damn sure smells funny. Especially when you read this comment by Fleischer at that media briefing:

[State regulators] never asked me about the Fleischer-Jacobs contract, they never asked me about my board pay, they never asked me about conflict of interest. …I would have walked away from the board. If that was an impediment to our getting the license, I would have walked away.

Fleischer would have walked away — from the board. Not from the lucrative contract.

I think that reveals Mitch Fleischer’s true priorities. If push came to shove, he’d be more concerned with the Fleischer-Jacobs contract than with continuing to serve as “the linchpin” of the Vermont Health CO-OP.

That makes me question his motivations in starting the CO-OP and tapping into $33 million in federal loans. And I’m not the only one. Falko Schilling of VPIRG, in this week’s Seven Days:

“When we plan to transition to single-payer health care in 2017, it almost feels like the introduction of this new cooperative is betting against that,” he says. “While it has promise, I don’t think they are really on board with the larger goal that a lot of people in the state are trying to move forward.”

Which makes a lot of sense, in view of Fleischer’s professional interests. The CO-OP would, at the very least, give his brokerage a big infusion of business. At most, it might make the health care exchange more palatable to Vermonters and slow the momentum toward implementation of single-payer.

In the same article, single-payer advocate Dr. Deb Richter questioned “whether [the CO-OP] was really needed, or is it just sort of going after a pot of money the feds were throwing our way?”

There’s no way to know for sure. And there are a lot of good people working at the Vermont Health CO-OP. But the whiff of mixed motives, the hint of conflict of interest, that hovers around its “linchpin,” is one reason why I’m ambivalent about the CO-OP’s future. And why, if push comes to shove, I give somewhat more credence to Donegan’s view of the company than to Fleischer’s.  

Ah. So. After a couple weeks of wretched publicity, Governor Shumlin has executed a political maneuver not normally present in his bag of tricks: the quick turnabout. After repeatedly insisting that his purchase of the Dodge homestead was a done deal, his attorney is now saying that Shumlin is open to voiding the transaction.

In fact, M. Jerome Diamond insists that Shumlin felt that way all along – he was just saying the exact opposite. And Mr. Diamond had a ready explanation, (Freeploid paywall alert) if not a believable one, for this odd behavior:

Diamond, whom Shumlin had hired in recent weeks after the land deal became a hot-button issue, said nullifying the deal had always been an option Shumlin was willing to consider, but he hadn’t wanted to say so publicly because he didn’t want to negotiate in the media.

Bwahahahaha. Sorry, M. Jerome, not buyin’ it. If Shumlin didn’t want to negotiate in the media, he should have said so, rather than blatantly misrepresenting his stance. No, the more likely scenario is that attorney sat down with client and told him that the facts in the case might not be in his favor, and even if they were, a courtroom victory over Jeremy Dodge could poison Shumlin’s image. In short, a trial would be a lose-lose situation for the Governor.

So the best option was a graceful exit. With Shumlin, of course, insisting that he be fully reimbursed in any settlement. After all, charity stops at the wallet’s opening. (Must be one of those childhood lessons learned by Little Petey the Price-Gouger.)

So, assuming that the Governor’s cupidity doesn’t prevent him from ending this sorry episode, what’s the big takeaway?

After the jump: the big… er… takeaways.

Well, there’s the fresh dents in his image. The Dodge transaction confirms a widely held perception that the Governor is a millionaire with a chronic empathy shortage who’s tone-deaf to the troubles of less fortunate Vermonters.

But equally important, if not more so, for his political future: this is just the latest episode in a very bad 2013 for Shumlin. (“Very bad” in relative terms, of course; he remains a very powerful chief executive with huge legislative majorities and a feeble opposition.) This year, he’s suffered one setback after another that strike at the very core of his appeal as a politician: that he’s a savvy operator and a can-do executive.

Start with his budget address in January, when he laid out some bold new initiatives that came as a complete surprise to Legislative Democrats. Presumably he thought that the Dems would follow where he led – or that he could persuade them through his raw political charisma. But the Dems were blindsided, and they didn’t appreciate it.

And then, during the 2013 session,  Shumlin utterly failed to make a persuasive case for his plans. He kept on repeating the same old discredited talking points, long after it was clear that nobody was buying what he was selling. And he stonewalled Legislative efforts to meet him halfway.

And in the end, while there was significant movement on some issues, the 2013 session was a messy squander of an historic opportunity. If the Governor and Democratic lawmakers had been on the same page, they could have accomplished far more. And in my mind, Shumlin gets most of the blame because of his stubborn refusal to budge.

The Dodge deal is just the cherry on this shit sundae. And one more sign that Peter Shumlin may not be the political or managerial genius he clearly thinks he is. Whether or not I’ve agreed with the Governor, I’ve always had respect for his smarts. But in recent months, we’ve seen plenty of  evidence that his strengths might not be all that strong*. Which is bad news for his own political future, and bad news for the Democrats’ hopes of extending their hegemony. Methinks it’s time for the Shumlin Machine to head to the garage for a tuneup. Or a rebuild.  

*You know, all this trouble started after the departure of Alex MacLean, Shumlin’s top aide and political right hand. Maybe, just maybe, she was the real genius of the clan.  

The disagreement between the Vermont Health CO-OP and the state Department of Financial Regulation is a classic Rashomon story: two diametrically opposed interpretations of the same situation. In denying VHC a Certificate of Public Good, DFR Commissioner Susan Donegan found flaws in VHC’s business plan and management structure, a possible conflict of interest at the very top of the company, and an unacceptably high risk of failure. VHC officials assert that Donegan is wrong on all counts, and that, after months and months of consistent communication between company and regulator, the rejection came as a total shock.

It’s hard to believe that the two parties are looking at the same sequence of events – events in which they participated (indeed, cooperated) from start to finish. And honestly, I don’t know enough to say who’s right and who’s wrong. But for me, the bottom line is this:

I don’t think it makes much difference either way.

The Vermont Health CO-OP sounds like a wonderful thing – a member-owned insurance carrier based right here in the Green Mountain State.  It appeals to many of our most dearly cherished self-images.  CO-OP CEO Christine Oliver and Board Chair Mitch Fleischer point out that many other states already have health CO-OPs, established through the Affordable Care Act. And, as a hotbed of co-operative enterprises, Vermont is the best possible place for a company like theirs. (Photo: Oliver and Fleischer at a press briefing last week.)

Except for one thing: In the Affordable Care Act, CO-OPs are part of the endgame. Health care reform is going no farther anytime soon. But in Vermont, we’re on the move to single-payer health care in 2017. If we get to single-payer, VHC likely dissolves. If single-payer craps out, VHC will be a very unsatisfying consolation prize. In fact, given the projected onset of single-payer, one could argue that VHC is an unnecessary risk of federal (read: taxpayer) funds. (The government has agreed to loan VHC a total of $33 million for startup costs and operating reserves. According to Oliver and Fleischer, if VHC goes bust before repaying the loans, the feds are on the hook.)

And while the prospect of a health insurance CO-OP* sounds warm and fuzzy and Vermonty, some of our leading health care reform advocates are decidedly lukewarm on the concept.

*It’s correctly spelled as CO-OP rather than “co-op” because it’s an acronym for “Consumer Operated and Oriented Plans.” These are a product of the Affordable Care Act, specifically defined within that law. This was one of many points of dispute between VHC and DFR: Donegan sees VHC as much more like a traditional mutual insurance company than what we think of as a cooperative. Oliver and Fleischer insist that VHC would behave like a cooperative, with policyholders having a voice in the company’s operation.  

Dr. Deb Richter, family physician and leader of the single-payer fight, told Seven Days:

This is just one more insurance scheme as far as I’m concerned. Not necessary, a lot of fuss, and a waste of time and money.

And Peter Sterling of the Vermont Campaign for Health Care Security told me:

For consumers, [Donegan’s rejection] is not a bad thing. There will be a lot of products on the market. With just MVP and Blue Cross offering products, it’s probably better for consumers.

From his personal experience as a health-care advocate, Sterling has seen plenty of folks who are overwhelmed by health insurance options. He believes that the exchange will ensure a decent array of insurance options while minimizing confusion.

Governor Shumlin doesn’t appear terribly anxious to get in the trenches, either. Last week, Oliver and Fleischer said that Shumlin would help them get a rehearing. And I speculated that Donegan might find herself bigfooted by the Guv. But Shumlin’s more recent statements are much more equivocal. The tanned and rested Peter Hirschfeld reports from behind the Mitchell Family Paywall:

Shumlin Tuesday said the decision on the CO-OP’s future is Donegan’s alone to make, and that he will not encourage her to reconsider the ruling.

“My job as governor is to meet with people when they’re happy or unhappy with state government, and that’s what I did,” Shumlin said. “But this is a regulatory matter, and I don’t get involved in regulatory decisions. And it would be totally inappropriate if I did.”

Sounds like Shumlin’s face-to-face with the VHC principals was a mere formality. And that quote sounds like a kiss-off.

Oliver and Fleischer certainly shouldn’t pin their hopes on a last-minute gubernatorial stay of execution. And Donegan still insists she won’t reopen the case. Which would leave VHC with two unpalatable options: a longshot appeal to the Vermont Supreme Court, or a complete reworking of their business plan and a restart of the DFR application process.

Either option would almost certainly prevent VHC from entering the health care exchange in its first year. And that’s the best opportunity for a brand-new carrier to grab market share. As Fleischer pointed out in last week’s briefing, the launch of the exchange effectively wipes the slate clean, which would give VHC a level playing field (pardon mixed metaphor) with its well-established competition. By 2015, MVP and Blue Cross will have a big headstart – and many consumers will be satisfied with their carriers and not looking to switch.

The situation led Seven Days to describe VHC as “on life support.”  And to me, that’s not a big deal. Because VHC is, at best, tangential to the ultimate goal of single-payer health care.  

Well, the inevitable has happened, per VTDigger:

Both sides of Shumlin-Dodge land deal lawyer up

And by “both sides…lawyer up”, we mean Governor Shumlin has hired one of the most prominent attorneys in Vermont, while Jeremy Dodge is trolling the far quieter waters of Vermont Legal Aid.

So, (1) technically, only one side has “lawyered up,” and (2) sounds like a fair fight to me. I’m sure Legal Aid will do a bang-up job against M. Jerome Diamond, who served three terms as state Attorney General (1975-81), was once the Democratic candidate for Governor, and is a founding partner in the law firm of Diamond & Robinson, where his client list has included “General Motors, Bristol-Myers Squibb, PhRMA, LexisNexis, Dish TV, and Orbitz,” according to his law firm’s website.

(He also touts his “strong relationships with state Attorneys General across the country,” which makes me wonder if he had anything to do with BIll Sorrell’s 2012 pre-primary grubstake. But that’s purely irresponsible speculation on my part. We now return to our story.)  

And now that Shumin’s hired a lawyer, he’s officially clammed up regarding the Dodge transaction. After all, pending court matter, would be improper to comment, harrumph harrumph. But his attorney has continued one of the less endearing aspects of this dispute: public disparagement of Jeremy Dodge.

“I’m expecting that Jerry and maybe a member of his family would meet with counsel shortly and select a counsel,” [Diamond] said. “And hopefully, if he remembers to pass my contact information along, that maybe I will get a call.”

Mmm-hmm. Attack the reliability of your opponent, and call him by his nickname. This is of a pattern with comments made by Shumlin before he lawyered up.  And I would suggest, now that this matter is becoming a formal legal proceeding, that such comments are no longer appropriate. If they ever were.

Just for the record, though, let’s review a sample of the Governor’s on-the-record descriptions of his “friendly neighbor,” as he called Dodge in his interview with the Freeploid.  

VTDigger:

Now, listen, this is a person who has a long criminal record. He is a violent offender. He has done horrendous things to innocent people.

Freeploid:

… I recognized that I was dealing with a person who had done some really despicable things to people… When I came onto the scene , it wasn’t just his property taxes, there was a whole menu of back bills, liens against the property, child support payments, a list of challenges a mile long…

…We’re dealing with someone who’s got a criminal record as long as my arm. As I mentioned, he’s done some really despicable things in his lifetime…

This is a violent offender who has done awful things to people.

Mitchell Family Organ:

“Here’s the thing about Dodge – when he’s sober and he’s not on drugs, there’s a lot to appreciate and respect about Jeremy Dodge,” Shumlin said. “When he is on drugs and he is not sober, he’s one of the most despicable human beings that you can deal with, according to what I’ve been told.”

With “friendly neighbors” like this, who needs enemies?

You know, if the Governor is really concerned about helping Jeremy Dodge get a fresh start, then he really ought to stop with the casual mudslinging. And he should tell his lawyer to do the same.

Two more notes. The VTDigger story says nothing about Shumlin’s previous offer to pay for Dodge’s legal counsel. For all I know, Dodge may well have rejected the offer. But its complete absence is curious.

Second, the terms of the dispute have hardened. Dodge wants to keep hold of the family homestead — which, despite Shumlin’s assertions to the contrary, he probably could if he received the tax relief he’s entitled to. Shumlin is willing to renegotiate terms, but he’s not willing to void the deal. In fact, he flatly told the Freeploid “I own the property.”

And my mind, unbidden, can’t help but recall the nasty things the Governor has said about his friendly neighbor. His express intent was to emphasize his charitable nature — helping a real down-and-outer, which nobody else was willing to do.

But when I look at all those comments together, I see another message from Our Man of the People: Would you want this guy living next door to you?

Maybe I’m being way too cynical. But the Governor, by his own comments and actions, has left the door open to cynical interpretations.  

This actually happened a while ago, but I didn’t notice it until Paul “The Huntsman” Heintz picked it up in his most recent “Winners & Losers” post.

Remember a couple of weeks ago, when Gov. Shumlin tried to quash the Jeremy Dodge land deal story by holding a series of one-on-one interviews with selected members of the State House media? You know, tell his side of the story, put on a little charm offensive?

Well, one of those interviews was with the Freeploid’s Terri Hallenbeck. And it didn’t start out well.

Gov. Peter Shumlin: “You’re going to video this? Oh, (expletive). We don’t want that. No, we’re not doing that.”

The “expletive” is left to our imagination. My first thought was “f*ck me,” but I eventually settled on the classic “shit.” The colloquy continues…

Burlington Free Press: “What do you mean we’re not doing that?”

PS: “We won’t do it. We’re not going to do that. Make up your mind. You want print, we’ll give it to you. We’re not doing video. Sorry to be rough, but you guys didn’t tell us. If you’d asked me I would have said no.”

“We’re not doing video” except…

BFP: “Are you not doing interviews with TV on this?”

PS: “Different kind of interview. Little teenie sound bites we give them, then we send them out the door. We want to have a conversation with you that’s not on video.” (Later, it would become apparent that WCAX-TV had videotaped a 20-minute interview.)

Yeah, that’s how you conduct a take-back-the-story campaign, and maintain good relations with your state’s biggest newspaper: reject a reasonable request for no stated reason, and lie to ’em in the process.  

So why no video for the Freeploid? I mean, they’re a newspaper, but like all media, they’re trying to multi-platform whenever possible. Video’s part of their toolkit.

And it can’t be the fact that he was in casual dress. Because he’s apparently quite fond of the shirt he wore that Friday, as pictured in the Freeploid; it also appears in the picture of Shumlin used by the Democratic Governors Association, shown nearby. (I’d show you the ‘Loid’s photo, except they jealously guard their copyright. But believe me, it’s the same shirt. Thrifty Vermonter, don’t ya know.)

Funny thing is, after being weaseled by the Governor, the Freeploid did him a great big favor by slow-playing his expletive-laced rejection. Hallenbeck didn’t mention it at all in her article on the Shumlin interview, published on May 25. Then, a few days later, the ‘Loid decided to post the full transcript of the interview online, expurgated expletive and all.

But they did nothing to call attention to Shumlin’s ungraciousness. The online post is simply entitled “The full Shumlin land deal interview.” And the ‘Loid didn’t put it in print — only online. Paul Heintz was apparently the first member of the media to notice the interview’s incendiary opening.

So, stupid move by the Governor, for no good reason as far as I can tell. He could have gotten hammered a lot harder for it, if the Freeploid had made a bigger splash. But hey, that’s what blogs are for.  

“Oh laugh, Curtin, old boy. It’s a great joke played on us by the Lord, or fate, or nature, whatever you prefer. But whoever or whatever played it certainly had a sense of humor. Ha! The gold has gone back to where we found it! This is worth ten months of suffering and labor, this joke is!”

                     — The Treasure of the Sierra Madre

Today’s cosmic joke is on a pair of Vermont Republicans, locked in battle over a disputed debt from a doomed campaign. But unlike Curtin and the old coot, these guys ain’t laughin’ — they’re headed to the Big Dry Empty of civil court. Trial is scheduled to begin on Monday, June 3; bring your popcorn.

In one corner: Jeff Bartley, cromulent political functionary and current chair of the Chittenden County Republican Party. Mr. Bartley is a prime example of a certain type of modern Republican: the post-collegiate ideologue who somehow latches onto one political job after another in spite of a long track record of failure. (See also: Corry Bliss, Jim Barnett.)

In the other corner: the campaign organization of Len Britton, Taftsville businessman and hapless challenger to Sen. Patrick Leahy in the 2010 election. As you may recall, Britton barely managed to crack 30% of the vote in losing to St. Patrick by a better than 2-to-1 margin. Britton’s campaign accumulated a war chest of barely $200,000, while Leahy spent 14 times that amount.

Bartley was the captain of that particular Titanic. And he considers himself underpaid.

But here’s the best part of this embarrassment: Jeff Bartley originally filed his lawsuit on October 27, 2010 — five days before Election Day. He had, by that point, left the campaign (perhaps because he wasn’t getting paid), but still — a Republican activist who’s now a Republican official shanking a top Republican candidate in the closing days of a campaign?

The capper: On that same day, Bartley filed an affidavit with the court seeking immediate payment on the grounds that Britton was “a likely unsuccessful candidate for U.S. Senate” and was likely to dissolve his campaign and stash any leftover funds to avoid his debts.

Bartley — who’s now in an influential party position — throws his own party’s candidate under the bus just before the election.

That’s just shameful.

After the jump: more details on the case.  

The documents in Bartley Consulting LLC v. Len Britton for Vermont LLC reveal a comedy of errors on both sides. To start with, Britton’s first campaign manager was one Dan Riley. During Riley’s tenure, in November 2009, Bartley was hired as Deputy Campaign Manager.

In April 2010, Britton and Riley parted ways and, according to a Bartley affidavit, “Len Britton for Vermont, LLC verbally asked me to… take on the position of campaign manager.” Remember that “verbally” part; it’s crucial to the case. The same affidavit says Bartley’s tenure as campaign manager continued “through September 2010”.

At this point, I should mention that the Britton campaign also owes a substantial amount of money to Riley.  According to its own Federal Election Commission filings, the unpaid balance to Riley is $16,577. You may well take this as evidence that Bartley’s claims are true, and that Britton is a welsher. I wouldn’t argue with that interpretation.

Britton’s defense rests on that word “verbally.” Because Jeff Bartley, campaign “expert”, has been unable to produce a signed contract for his services as campaign manager. That’s left the door open for Britton to assert that there never was a contract, and hence Britton is not legally bound to pay.

In the absence of a contract, Bartley’s complaint relies on the Britton campaign’s FEC filings, which list an obligation to Bartley Consulting to the tune of $31,072.67 as well as the $16,577 debt to Riley.

Britton’s rejoinder comes by way of his campaign treasurer, Charles Taylor. He claims that the FEC filings don’t prove a thing. And how does he explain that? In a court affidavit, Taylor says he was unsure about how to list a disputed debt on the FEC form, so he discussed it with an FEC official:

I was told that, in essence, disputation notwithstanding, Defendant was nevertheless required to report the amount of monies claimed due by Plaintiff.

This is another pesky “verbal” thing. As far as can be determined from court records, Taylor has no written documentation of the FEC’s alleged stance.

Yeesh. Talk about the gang that couldn’t shoot straight.

Let’s sum up this laughable situation. We have a guy who served as a campaign manager for six months without a written contract. And who had no discernible positive effect on his candidate’s chances. We have a candidate who allegedly owes money to not one, but two former campaign managers, both of whom left in mid-campaign. And nobody in the case kept proper written records.

We also have a legal dispute that’s limped along since October 2010 with no resolution, an open festering sore on the Vermont Republican Party. The principals are a top Republican official and a former statewide candidate who, even if he never runs for office again, ought to be a reliable source of funds for the VTGOP. But if I were Len Britton, I wouldn’t be getting out my checkbook on behalf of a party that appointed Jeff Bartley to an influential post. Bartley being, after all, his antagonist in a two-and-a-half-year-long legal battle. Not to mention the guy who piloted Britton’s campaign into an iceberg.

Ladies and gentlemen, your Vermont Republican Party.  

Yes, friends, it’s time once again for the comedy stylings of Maine Governor Paul LePage (R-Teabag), last seen in these parts holding fundraisers for Randy Brock’s hopeless, hapless campaign for Governor.

This time, LePage is (a) completely misconstruing the First Amendment, and (b) implying a need for an armed assault on the Maine State House. Take it away, Portland Press-Herald…

Gov. Paul LePage is still upset about being silenced during a recent meeting of the Legislature’s budget writing committee, calling it a “dangerous precedent when we can’t let Americans speak.”

Before we go on, let’s take note of the fact that LePage is “still upset” over something that happened on May 19 — ten frickin’ days ago. That’s when he went to a meeting of a Senate committee and, toward the end of the session, asked for the opportunity to address the panel. The committee chair, a Democrat, said no. Which incensed LePage, not a noted Constitutional scholar.

Asked why the issue is so important, the governor replied, “It’s freedom of speech. You folks should understand that better than I. It is the First Amendment, then there is the Second and I love ’em both.”

Uh… I don’t know how to break this to you, sir, but that’s NOT the First Amendment.

After the jump: GUNS! The answer to every question.

The First Amendment protects the general right to free speech — it says nothing about your right to speak in a particular time and place. If free-speech rights extended to legislative committees, I daresay their sessions would last a hell of a lot longer.

And LePage’s remedy for this unAmerican breach?

He later added, “The minute we start stifling our speech, we might as well go home, roll up our sleeves and get our guns out.”

Nice. That oughta liven up those dull, dreary meetings.

Oh, and one more thing about LePage and the First Amendment: He recently issued an order that he — and only he — will speak to legislative committees on behalf of his Administration. No department heads or other officials will be allowed to give testimony.

Y’know, I can’t imagine why LePage’s Vermont visit didn’t attract legions of moderate voters to the Brock banner.  

Vermont’s Commissioner of Financial Regulation, Susan Donegan, should expect a phone call from The Big Cheese sometime soon. The subject: her recent, and extremely decisive, rejection of the Vermont Health CO-OP’s bid for a certificate of public good.

For those just joining us, Donegan laid the smackdown on the VHC last week, ruling that its application fell substantially short in its financial outlook and management structure. Her decision was a huge setback for the would-be health insurer.

Well, today VHC’s top officials held a meeting with the media to tell their side of the story. It’s a pretty incredible situation; the two competing stories from VHC and Donegan could not be more different, and I don’t know who to believe.

I’ll post a more detailed diary later today or tomorrow, but for now I wanted to pass along the biggest new development from today’s presser: VHC has asked Governor Shumlin to seek reconsideration of the decision, and Shumlin has promised to take that step. Should be an interesting conversation, with Shumlin urging his functionary to reopen a case she considers closed. Emphatically. With a bang. “This is a final order from the Commissioner,” Donegan told WDEV’s Mark Johnson on Friday.

But the CO-OP has a fair bit of clout in the corner office. A former top Administration official, Christine Oliver, is CEO of the company. Shumlin was on hand at last fall’s official kickoff for VHC, and gave the venture his hearty endorsement.

“We reached out to the Governor,” said CO-OP Board Chairman Mitch Fleischer. “We met with him Monday afternoon. He’d been a proponent of the CO-OP, and he’d like to see another option [in the new health care exchange].”

VHC planned to offer coverage in the exchange, which launches on January 1, 2014, but it cannot do so without a Certificate of Public Good. If Donegan refuses her boss’ entreaties, the CO-OP’s only recourse is an appeal to the Vermont Supreme Court, which appears unlikely to succeed.

Again, I’ll have more on this story in the near future.  

The Jeremy Dodge land purchase threatens to become a political tar baby for Governor Shumlin — something that causes lasting harm to a politician’s image. (Think John Kerry and windsurfing, or George H.W. Bush not knowing the price of milk.) The Governor apparently realized this on Friday, when he stopped issuing brief written statements and instead held a series of tete-a-tetes with selected State House reporters.

In those interviews, Shumlin gave some ground, opening the door for renegotiation of the deal — this time, with a lawyer representing Dodge. But he hasn’t gone far enough to unstick the tar baby. And the longer he waits, and the more iterations of his story come out, the harder it’ll be to put this deal behind him.

So, what’s he still doing wrong? Well, how about this classic bit of Shumlinia, combining narcissism, myopia, and a straw-man argument in a single brief statement:

“He needed action right there and then,” Shumlin said during his first interview since news of the controversial land deal broke Wednesday. “I could not in good conscience walk away. … I just wasn’t going to do it. Now, maybe some folks can do that. I don’t have the ability to do that – that’s just the truth.”

So, in Shumlin’s mind, “helping a neighbor” means “buying his assets at a rock-bottom price when he has nowhere else to turn.” No other options came to mind? Like, helping Dodge achieve the substantial tax relief he was entitled to? (See below.)

Apparently not, since he posited two, and only two, possible courses of action: buying Dodge’s land, or walking away. And, in the Governor’s mind, his critics would have preferred that he walk away. Well, that’s ridiculous, and Shumlin knows it.

After the jump: a classic refusal to take responsibility, the tax relief Jeremy Dodge should have gotten, and a nasty little surprise in the VTDigger interview.

Here’s another classic Shumlinism: He absolutely refuses to acknowledge any wrongdoing on his own part. Key exchange with VTDigger’s Andrew Stein:

Q: Do you think you did anything wrong in this matter whatsoever?

(Long Pause)

A: I understand why people can have divergent views of whether I should have gotten involved at all. In the end, I am an individual who lives in the state of Vermont, and I didn’t have the capacity to turn to a neighbor in a really desperate situation – someone for whom many in the community have no sympathy because of the horrendous things he’s done – and see a guy who is working to better himself and basically sentence him back to jail. I couldn’t do that.

“Long pause,” indeed. And instead of bearing any responsibility for allowing Dodge to go unrepresented in the deal, or failing to advise Dodge of other potential recourses, Shumlin shifts the blame to his critics. And, just for good measure, casually tosses a handful of mud on Dodge’s reputation. (The Governor is never shy about reminding us of Dodge’s unsavory past.)

The potential tax relief available to Dodge was outlined by Peter Hirschfeld on Thursday (article NOT paywalled) the Mitchell Family Organ. To recap, Dodge inherited the property and home in 2009. Since then, the tax bills have been piling up, but only because Dodge was ignorant of his options:

Between 2010 and 2012, according to state records, no one filed a homestead declaration on the Dodge property. Dodge, who says he never made more than $10,000 in each of those years, was charged full freight on property taxes as a result. His bill for tax year 2012 – the property was at that point appraised at $233,700 – came in at $4,597.11.

Income sensitivity would have cut the bill to a fraction of that amount – the law limits property-tax bills of low-income homeowners’ to about 5 percent of annual income.

It’s too late for Dodge to get full relief under a homestead declaration, but he could have sought at least some retroactive relief from the town of East Montpelier. In other words, if not for Dodge’s ignorance of the law, he probably could have retained the property indefinitely.

And Shumlin, as a longtime lawmaker and real estate investor, must know the law as well as anyone. It beggars belief to think that Shumlin wasn’t fully aware of Dodge’s options. I have to conclude that he chose not to offer that information to his neighbor in need.

That rather uncharitable inference gets some support from this statement by Shumlin to VTDigger’s Andrew Stein:

I became aware because people told me his place was coming up for tax sale, and people said you really ought to buy it because he’s your neighbor.

I’ve never bought anything on a tax sale, but I felt like I owed him the courtesy of telling him I knew there was a tax sale. I didn’t want it to be a surprise if I showed up there.

And there’s a twist I haven’t seen anywhere else. Before Jeremy Dodge ever told Shumlin of his troubles, the Governor was fully aware that Dodge’s property was about to go to tax auction. And Shumlin planned to bid on the property.

In other words, before this selfless act of Samaritanship ever crossed his mind, Shumlin had already decided to buy the land.

Puts things in a different light, doesn’t it?

When you look at this picture, taken by Stefan Hard of the Times Argus, you understand Shumlin’s interest — and his current reluctance to void the transaction.

The shining house on the hill at right is the Governor’s bucolic getaway. The smaller structure on the left is Dodge’s place. And hey, if you’re a high-profile figure who’d like a little privacy (and we all know how jealously Shumlin guards his personal life), wouldn’t you want to snap up the next house over?

Shumlin, of course, puts a positive spin on his insistence that Jeremy Dodge vacate the property his family has owned for decades. To Shumlin, the Dodge manse is too far gone to be rehabbed, and Dodge would be better off somewhere else. (Which didn’t stop the Governor from charging Dodge $1000 a month in “rent” for a house he thinks is unfit to live in.) This ignores the obvious affection for the land felt by Dodge and his adult children. Did anyone ask Jeremy Dodge where he’d prefer to live?