Laying restlessly on her moderately over-firm prison cot in the wee, small hours of the morning, noble New York Times reporter Judith Miller awoke with a jolt. Unbidden, her mind suddenly filled with an unsought, unwanted epiphany: Why, that source she was in jail valiantly protecting -- he'd actually released her from her secrecy pledge months ago! She could finally leave prison!

But wait! Where could that thought have come from? Why hadn't it occurred to her before? It's almost as though it was placed -- or... projected -- into her mind by something. Or someONE!

In the dim shadows of her cell, Miller almost imagined she could hear a malevolent laugh. Like something she'd heard years before. Could it be...?

But no matter. Finally, she knew she would be free! That's all that mattered. Sure! All she had to do was testify before the Grand Jury and it would be all over.

With new hope, her face now bright and confident, the jaunty journalist leaped to her feet and ran her government-issue tin cup noisily back and forth across the jail cell bars to get the guard's attention.

"Yeah. What is it, Miller," the groggy guard demanded.

"I'm ready to sing!" responded the noisy news hound. "Why, I'll sing so loud -- !!"

"Sure, sure. And what are you gonna sing? Rigoletto? Ha ha ha ha!"

"Oh yeah?" said Miller smugly. "Well try this one on for size, Porky: Listen up, world! I learned about Valerie Plame from... from.. 'Scooter' Libby!!"

"'S-Scooter' Libby? The Vice-President's assistant???" sputterd the guard, his face drained of all color. " Y-you hang on right there, sister. I'll get the Warden!"

As the nervous guard skittered off into the night, the newswoman's voice echoed down the dank prison corridors: "Yeah! That's right! 'Scooter' Libby! And Karl Rove! Matthew Cooper!! Robert Novak -- he knows what's up!! Yeah, 'Scooter' Libby... Karl Rove.. and The Shadow! The Shadow!! THE SHADOW!!!"

With cankers on the body politic gnashing their teeth in an epic mixed metaphor because they couldn't find any more wrong with him than he's an upright kind of guy, John Roberts was sworn in today as Chief Justice of the Supreme Court.

Gnomon predicts he will be the greatest Chief Justice since, well, since William Rehnquist.

Alright, we already know that SARS (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome) came from hungry chinese eating Civet Cats. Right?

But where'd the Civet Cats get it?

Apparently hobnobbing with Horseshoe Bats.

Satisfied?

An aide to the President of Russia says after 81 years embalmed for all to see, it's time to bury Vladimir Lenin. The idea has come up before.

Heroic Islamic fanatics meanwhile have solved this problem by blowing those they idolize to bloody shreds.

A high-tech Chilean robot has found a fabulous treasure buried on the island that inspired Robinson Crusoe.

Or so the robot says.

Congress engaged in an age-old DC tradition today and disembowled their current scapegoat -- in this case, former FEMA head, Mike Brown.

"My biggest mistake was not recognizing by Saturday that Louisiana was dysfunctional," responded Mr. Brown. That clear-eyed comment is proof enough he should not have been allowed to run the federal agency; Louisiana has been the poster child for corrupt, mendacious, dysfunctional government since 1718.

Then again, perhaps Mr. Brown is just inept enough to disguise the fact that Katrina was actually manufactured by FEMA -- with the covert help of Halliburton, of course -- to offer plausible deniability to the fact that it is the True Faceless Juggernaut (or TFN, for those in the know) of the New World Order!

Of course... Congress must be in on it, too.

The ghosts continue to drift away: Don Adams, who played Superspy (not!) Maxwell Smart, guardian of the free world against the forces of K.A.O.S., is dead of a lung ailment. He was also famous as Tennessee Tuxedo.

Gnomon regretably did not get back in time to note the passing of Bob Denver, star of the greatest TV show of all time, Gilligan's Island.

No doubt someone will morn the passing of the Desperate Housewives with similar emotion 40 years from now... won't they?

In light of NASA's finally regaining a sense of vision after 40 years and aiming for the moon, Gnomon wishes to heartily recommend inveterate space-junkie Tom Hank's new IMAX movie, Magnificent Desolation. This is about as close as you'll get to walking on the moon -- unless you're an astronaut in 2012!

After seeing it, you may also want a copy of this. It's the other next best thing to strolling the moon.

After a bit of a hiatus, Gnomon is back. Let us now begin, once again, pointing things out, shall we?