I only ask, you know, because apparently the FBI is trying to recruit college slackers to infiltrate "vegan potlucks" in the Twin Cities.
Ten minutes later, he says, a casually dressed Swanson showed up, flanked by a woman whom he introduced as FBI Special Agent Maureen E. Mazzola. For the next 20 minutes, Mazzola would do most of the talking.
“She told me that I had the perfect ‘look,’” recalls Carroll. “And that I had the perfect personality—they kept saying I was friendly and personable—for what they were looking for.”
What they were looking for, Carroll says, was an informant—someone to show up at “vegan potlucks” throughout the Twin Cities and rub shoulders with RNC protestors, schmoozing his way into their inner circles, then reporting back to the FBI’s Joint Terrorism Task Force, a partnership between multiple federal agencies and state and local law enforcement. The effort’s primary mission, according to the Minneapolis division’s website, is to “investigate terrorist acts carried out by groups or organizations which fall within the definition of terrorist groups as set forth in the current United States Attorney General Guidelines.”
Carroll would be compensated for his efforts, but only if his involvement yielded an arrest. No exact dollar figure was offered.
Oh, really, now. I'm all in favor of investigating, for instance, the animal rights terrorists or eco-terrorists or any of that hippy-dippy crowd that thinks that their inexorable sense of poorly-deodorized self-importance justifies burning shit down and destroying property. But infiltrating vegan potlucks? What are the vegans going to do, kick us with their plastic shoes until we're terrified? Poison the nation's pork rind supply? Really.
Although you do have to admire the FBI's self-awareness in recognizing that they lack any suitable in-house undercover candidates. Based on my experiences with them, I'd expect them to pick some buzz-cut ex-marine Mormon who's so strait-laced he makes Dwight Eisenhower look like a transvestite pole dancer. And he'd show up in immaculately polished leather shoes, and bring a three-bean salad with bac-o-bits and Kraft cheese. And then he's produce a lovingly crafted, oddly worded report replete with cop talk and the stench of cluelessness. "Suspects referred repeatedly and negatively to someone called 'The Man.' I was unsuccessful in my attempts to identify 'The Man' [hereinafter referred to as SUBJECT M] but will continue to do so, as suspects may pose a risk to SUBJECT M, whom they accused of constantly being 'down' on their 'shit.'"
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