Joe Wilson, his face ghostly white after reading this editorial in the Washington Post placing the blame for the Plame Affair directly on him, throws the newspaper down and walks over to the bar to pour some Jameson into a whiskey glass.

He sits back down in his well worn chair and slowly sips his early morning cocktail. After a few moments he reluctantly reaches down for the Post to read the hurtful editorial again.

He shudders when he re-reads this graph…….

Nevertheless, it now appears that the person most responsible for the end of Ms. Plame’s CIA career is Mr. Wilson. Mr. Wilson chose to go public with an explosive charge, claiming — falsely, as it turned out — that he had debunked reports of Iraqi uranium-shopping in Niger and that his report had circulated to senior administration officials. He ought to have expected that both those officials and journalists such as Mr. Novak would ask why a retired ambassador would have been sent on such a mission and that the answer would point to his wife. He diverted responsibility from himself and his false charges by claiming that President Bush’s closest aides had engaged in an illegal conspiracy. It’s unfortunate that so many people took him seriously.

Wilson drops the paper again and drains the rest of the whiskey. He stands up and looks around the room. He yells for his wife, “Valerie!”

He shuffles into the kitchen when he gets no answer. On the table are the leftovers of the morning breakfast.

“She must have taken the kids to school,” Wilson says to himself. He sits down at the breakfast table, brushes away some crumbs of bread and grabs a cold piece of toast. He notices an open encyclopedia on the table and stands to pick it up to place it back on the bookshelf.

His eyes are drawn to a word……..

Wilson: [reading from an encyclopedia] “P O O K A - Pooka - from old Celtic mythology - a fairy spirit in animal form - always very large. The pooka appears here and there - to this one - and to that one - a benign but mischievous creature - very fond of rumpots, crackpots, and how are you, Mr. Wilson?”

“How are you, Mr. Wilson?”

Who in the encyclopedia wants to know?

One day in the future when the Plame Affair is merely two words in a history book, Joe Wilson will still be clinging to the idea that the encyclopedia mention of “How are you, Mr. Wilson? was truly meant for him.

ALLAHPUNDIT has more……

It’s a good thing Lorie Byrd has such an encyclopedic knowledge of the history of news and entertainment…..

Blue Crab Boulevard has excellent advice on how to handle those still clinging to the story, and found roaming the streets of Georgetown at night, muttering “frog-march Rove, frog-march Rove, frog-march Rove”……………

The Anchoress wishes the Washington Post would actually inform their readers that the UK still stands by their yellowcake intel.

Glenn Reynolds knew the whole thing was BOGUS back in 2003.

Welcome Lorie Byrd and Wizbang readers. Thanks for stopping by.