We're Back! (Or: 'Brownie, You're a Helluva Girl')

Geez! We go away for a few days at the whole world goes to heck.

Karl Rove is not indicted.

Quarterback Ben Roethlisberger of the Super Bowl champion Pittsburgh Steelers ought to be for not wearing a motorcycle helmet.

Dubya flies into Baghdad – in broad daylight without incident! – to mouth platitudes and pose at photo ops. Where else could a president land his plane without the knowledge of the country's leader? Tell me: Who is really in charge in Iraq?

Three Muslim inmates in the Navy brig at Guantanamo, held for years without being charged or having access to their families, decide that consorting with 72 virgins in Islamic heaven is preferable to prison food. The military reacts by calling their suicides “a PR move."

After four years of hype, two years of training and two weeks of preparation in Germany, the U.S. team plays like a bunch of distracted schoolboys in its World Cup opener.

Hamas and Fattah beat up on each other and blame everyone else, notably the European Union for removing the big teat that the Palestinian Authority has been sucking on for lo these many years. And lest anyone think that a new era has dawned for the long suffering Palestinian people, a militant group fires four rockets into Israel.

The Beach Boys bury the hatchet and appear in public for the first time in 10 years.

FEMA is rapped for wasting $1.4 billion of Hurricane Katrina relief money on stuff like visits to strip clubs and a sex change operation. ("Brownie, you're a helluva girl.")

Anyhow, we're back!