Amy Patt explains why she doesn't wear floral prints anymore.

The Times today peered down its imperial nose at Boston and sneered, in its summation of the saga of Clark "Don't Call Me Karl" Rockefeller, who goes on trial tomorrow on charges of ne'er-do-wellness:

Everybody's favorite faux-Rockefeller wants to be called Rockefeller in court because one of the charges against him is giving police a false name, so every time jurors heard him referred to as Herr Gehartsreiter, they would hate him even more, and that's just not fair.

Michael Pahre details the call from somebody incredibly interested in his feelings on the Suspect Now Known as Christian Karl Gerhartsreiter:

... While these phone survey companies are bound not to disclose who hired them (according to the caller ID, this one was done by a company in Oregon, 503-977-6714), there is little question in my mind that it was contracted by Gerhartsreiter's defense team -- and that they are hoping the survey provides data that could justify moving the trial elsewhere. ...

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Here’s the Clark/Christian Karl Gerhartsreiter whomever update in a nutshell:

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[center]^{Christian Karl Gerhartsreiter}[/center]
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A Suffolk County grand jury today indicted the Suspect Formerly Known as Clark Rockefeller on charges of parental kidnapping, assault and battery and assault and battery with a dangerous weapon. Oh, and providing a false name to police (yes, just one).

He's to be a good chap and report to Suffolk Superior Court on Monday for arraignment, the Suffolk County DA's office reports.

Maybe it's just sour grapes that his paper didn't get this month's Interview of the Century, or maybe he's really disgusted at what passes for journalism on Morrissey Boulevard these days, but whatever the reason, Herald Square doyen Jules Crittenden lays into the Globe's interview with the Suspect Formerly Known as Clark Rockefeller today with the sort of joyous vituperation not normally seen on media outlets this side of the Atlantic:

... Scribbler Maria Cramer is immediately tongue-tied as "Clark Rockefeller" dodges her clever opening "Who are you?" question. Globies allow ambulance chaser Stephen Hrones to tell them to be quiet. Also, remarkably, the bowtied bumkissers can't tell a German accent from a Brahmin one, despite having followed the Boston Herald's trail up the Alps to Gerhartsreiter's schnitzel-schnauzing roots. Apparently the Globe is having trouble finding good blueblood help these days. ...

And then he really gets started.

Adam Reilly compares the Globe and Herald coverage of our own little Zelig, to see who had the most scoops.

Dave Copeland, who knows something about criminals and New York, makes some calls to learn about "Rockefeller's" less than illustrious career on Wall Street back in the Gordon Gekko days:

... But after two days at Lehman, Rockefeller told his supervisors that he needed to take time off to search for his parents, who he said had gone missing in Afghanistan. Sources said Rockefeller – who told co-workers at Nikko he was film director Christoher Crowe – was dismissed by Lehman. Rockefeller even invited co-workers to the Greenwich, Conn. guest house he was renting for screenings of "his" movies. Rockefeller claimed he was living in the guest house because his own home was being renovated, a claim that co-workers assumed was one of his tall tales.

Within days of his dismissal from Lehman, Connecticut State Police detectives arrived at the offices of both Lehman and Nikko looking to question Rockefeller. ...

One guess what they might have wanted to question him about. Yep.