At approximately 10:29 p.m. Eastern time last Wednesday night, just as the moon reappeared after a spectacular lunar eclipse, and a U.S. Navy AEGIS cruiser blew up that potentially dangerous defense satellite high above the Pacific, The New York Times performed some of its own celestial wonders when it hit the launch button to commence what many suspect was a not-so-secret operation code-named McCain Flame Out.

Blazing the heavens 133 nautical miles above the earth in a polar orbit, most earthbound mortals could not comprehend the rocket science that would allow a school bus-sized satellite traveling 17,000 miles per hour to be destroyed by one SM-3 missile fired from the deck of the USS Lake Erie in the North Pacific.

But 100 percent of those same math- and science-challenged mortals proceeded to demonstrate Ph.D.-in-astrophysics expertise when asked to analyze what became simply “the McCain story.” One reason: sex. No rocket science degree required.

Disguised as a typically convoluted Washington story about lobbying, access, favors, backroom deals, hypocrisy and risk-taking, most who read the Times story (and even those who didn’t) knew instinctively what that frisky Gray Lady wanted them to think, but couldn’t come up with a named source to say outright: The anti-pork, anti-corruption, high-minded presumptive Republican presidential nominee, McCain, had had an illicit affair with an attractive female lobbyist half his age.

Like the errant satellite, the debris from the McCain shoot-down began to re-enter the Earth’s atmosphere almost immediately. Political websites hummed all night; the Times’s Thursday morning front page; network morning show producers scrambling for “experts”; 24/7 fodder for the cable news networks.

While nearly all of the satellite debris would burn up on re-entry within 48 hours, the McCain campaign wouldn’t be quite so lucky.  Nearly a week later and the space junk continues to fall.

Perhaps feeling heat, the Times published a follow-up article on Friday playing down the “illicit relationship” part of the story, but it still garnered a stiff rebuke from the paper’s own public editor, Clark Hoyt, who responded to Editor Bill Keller’s argument that the original offering was really about the concern that some aides had about McCain’s “reckless behavior.”

“I think that ignores the scarlet elephant in the room,” Hoyt wrote. “A newspaper cannot begin a story about the all-but-certain Republican presidential nominee with the suggestion of an extramarital affair with an attractive lobbyist 31 years his junior and expect readers to focus on anything other than what most of them did. And if a newspaper is going to suggest an improper sexual affair, whether editors think that is the central point or not, it owes readers more proof than the Times was able to provide,” Hoyt added.

In some respects the McCain story reminds me of what ABC did when it broke the Rep. Mark Foley (R-Fla.) page scandal story in 2006. All ABC had, as did several other news organizations, were “overfriendly” Foley e-mails and a former page complaining about the congressman to a Capitol Hill staffer.

Not having anything more than many of their competitors, ABC decided not to wait any longer and posted the incomplete pieces they had on their website. That quickly led to ABC receiving the “salacious” instant messages that forced Foley to resign.

The Times seems to have used its prestigious front page the same way — to roll the dice and get the not-fully-baked story “out there” to see what would happen.

I suspect the deserving officers aboard the USS Lake Erie hooted, hollered, and gave each other high-fives when they hit that dying satellite with just one shot. No word on whether those in command at the Times were also celebrating, but if journalistic success is measured by selling papers, having a story talked about non-stop for a week, then I suspect the editors were scouring eBay for that mothballed  “Mission Accomplished” banner that the Bushies unfurled and refurled in 2003.

I can’t help thinking that if MSNBC benched one of its trusted, star reporters for using perfectly acceptable — albeit offensive to some — street banter to describe the role of a candidate’s daughter in the campaign, then what should the penalty be for the nation’s most influential newspaper using its front page to accuse a leading presidential candidate of infidelity?

I am not suggesting throwing anyone into the brig, but maybe the Times could muster all the deck officers involved in the launch decision and conduct a tabletop war-game post-mortem exercise.  If that doesn’t work, they should come up with a replacement word for “fit” — as in “All the news that’s fit to print.”

Jim Mills can be reached at This email address is being protected from spam bots, you need Javascript enabled to view it