It never bothered me that anyone of importance in the Bush White House escaped involvement in the whole Valerie Palme thing, because if Karl Rove had been nailed, he would have pardoned as soon as his conviction was announced. So Libby will spend no time in jail (and I would say he probably deserves at least a weekend in the Big House simply for being an adult going by the nickname "Scooter" in public) but will still be a convicted felon (which means he loses his law license) and still is on the hook for a $250,000 fine (which will, like his legal fees, be paid for by Republican groups in DC).
I still think that right before January 20, 2009, Libby will receive a full pardon.
Look, Bush is a joke. Three-fourths of the country and nine-tenths of the world feel that way now, and we are all just biding our time until the Constitution kicks in and kicks him back to Crawford. There's no reason to be outraged by this, because if you didn't see it coming, you weren't paying very close attention. George does what he wants. Laws don't apply to George, and therefore, laws don't apply to people George likes.
You know who George does not like? People convicted of murder (even those done so questionably). In fact, George hates those people so much, he did everything he could when he was governor of Texas to se that they died as swiftly as possible. Who cares if a few "might" have been innocent? A few worthy sacrifices for the good of Texas, it seems.
Ladies and gentlemen, your 43rd President in a nutshell: he wouldn't consider putting off an execution even if there were a 99% chance that the person about to die was going to do so in error, and he certainly doesn't do anything to make sure American soldiers stay alive, but if you are a Republican crony who committed perjury (as long as it wasn't about sex, mind you) he'll make sure that you're off the hook.
And I continue to wish that somehow I could be around in one hundred years just so I could read history textbooks about the years 2001-2009.
On to other things: not long ago, I was ready to declare the 2007 baseball season over. As a Cubs fan, there is a point every season where the official call is made: the team isn't going to win the World Series for the (insert rapidly approaching three digit number here) and once again, I have to wait another freakin' year.
Last year, the time of death was the first week of May. And I almost called it at the end of this May, when they were 22-31, but for some reason I waited. I think it was because I didn't want to give up until they played the White Sox for the last time. Turns out that series seems to be the point where the season has turned around. Since the 22-31 mark, they have gone 19-9. They still have a lot of room to make up if they want to make the playoffs, and even if they did they wouldn't be favored over any other team I think, but at least as we spiral into July there is still a reason for me to watch (and be excited) about baseball.
Mock me; pity me; commit me; fail-to-understand me (Hi Honey!); there's just no way for me to convey how this team drives me. I have a few friends who might read this and nod their heads in complete, absolute understanding.
It can still happen, boys. And I will be here following.
If it takes forever.