Councilman Frank Rizzo tried recently to rewrite part of the story of WiFi. Rizzo had previously published highly critical editorials in several big city newspapers, including the Chicago Tribune. His opposition, echoing industry objections, earned the councilman the title of corporate sock puppet from media activists. And ultimately, Chicago ignored Rizzo's warnings, and is moving ahead with WiFi plans.

Now a sponsor of the bill that selects the Atlanta-based EarthLink, Rizzo is also publicly singing the blues for Verizon and Comcast. At a committee meeting in council chambers last week, he admonished the city solicitor, saying he wanted it "on the record" that "we [the city] could have gone to them [Verizon and Comcast], and we didn't. If [the Street administration] had pushed harder, we could have done a deal."

But facts are facts, and these ain't? City Solicitor Romulo Diaz shot back with "those companies were asked to participate, and chose not to."

Actually, that's an understatement. Rizzo might recall that in the fall of 2004, Verizon snuck a stealth bill through Harrisburg that effectively outlawed municipal broadband statewide ["Can You Hear Him Now?" Loose Canon, Dec. 9, 2004]. Cities must now get Verizon's permission to build municipal broadband. Philly alone escaped the phone company's grasp, after Rendell intervened to make this city a single exception.

Verizon had complained to lawmakers that muni-WiFi was unfair competition. But facing real competition, Verizon now offers very cheap DSL in the city. And when asked about its current take on muni-WiFi, according to spokesperson Eric Rabe, Verizon's posture is officially neutral. Yet, Verizon has still to let another city in Pennsylvania build its own broadband.

But the grand prize for spinning the city's WiFi must go to Comcast, who corralled some in the media to help tell the corporation's story—while reporters agreed to hide the source.

A year ago, as the muni contract went to bid, Comcast created a list of reporters for one-on-one sessions. To attend the briefing, journalists had to consent that the contents and even the existence of the sessions would remain off the record. (A City Paper reporter was among those who agreed to these terms.)

From a PR perspective, this was brilliant. The corporation could drip poison into reporters' ears, and reporters had to agree to protect their source. Brilliant and profoundly deceptive to the public—because it lets Comcast shape stories in the shadows.

On the cusp of Council's WiFi approval, Comcast called for group briefing with certain reporters. When I learned about it, I asked for an invite. No way. Only journalists who were news writers, I was told. Columnists and editorial writers are not welcome.

But then after I suggested to Comcast's Tim Fitzpatrick that the public ought to know more about his company's media practices, the corporation suddenly changed its line. News writer or not, now I was welcome. Just so long as I kept my mouth shut.

No thanks, I demurred. This game of secret press conferences for selected reporters is over.

To be sure, Comcast is not alone in getting a push back from the press. Neither The New York Times nor The Washington Post will now send journalists to cover secret press conferences. And in a recent change of policy, The Philadelphia Inquirer is likewise keeping their reporters from off-the-record mass offerings.

Look, it's one thing for a newspaper to invite a news-maker to their offices to speak on background. But it's another thing entirely when corporations cherry-pick reporters to attend their own secret press conferences.

So here's my On Demand request to Comcast. Act like a responsible media company. Put down your sock puppets, stop whispering on the sly, and have the decency to stand by your own words. We'd all like to hear you now.