Believe it or not, there -was- a heartrending work of staggering genius posted on this date, a special bit on the whole Ahmed Chalabi fiasco that I wrote in New York. Which was, apparently, lost forever due to a minor glitch when I went to correct a typo on "mustard".
I know I called Richard Perle "Satan's Toejam", and may have implied that he eats fresh baby livers, but that's about all I can remember. Ah well. The Internet is a mysterious, ephemeral medium filled with tricks and peril.
Traditional ranting, raving, use of the F-bomb, and intimations of cannibalism amongst senior administration officials will resume their normal schedule tomorrow.
And now, in order to preserve the site's formatting and pad space appropriately, here's an ironically undoctored picture of some flowers.
