This week, indeed this month, has ended on a very pleasant note.  Yes, there may be some personal stuff for me yet to contend with, and I believe that Mr.  Libby has been terribly wronged.  But:  Larry O'Donnell, if he's half the man I think he is, is chug-a-lugging Prozac-laced Absolut and contemplating the descent into well-deserved obscurity- not a long drop, mind you.  The image I like to conjure up is the "hobbling" scene in "Misery:" Larry strapped to a bed with Patrick Fitzgerald wielding the mallet in the form of his schlappschwanz indictments against Scooter Libby and nothing against the Evil Genius.

Ah....