WHAT would you say the most famous African country in America was right now? I’d go for Niger. Nary a day goes by without a dozen e-mails from aggrieved lefties claiming that I’ve “lied” about what Ambassador Joseph C. Wilson IV found on his famous mission when he flew into Niamey and spent a couple of days sipping mint tea with former big shots from the regime of retired strongman Major Wanke. (I’ve suggested “Wankegate” as a name for the “scandal” to the New York Times, but they’re oddly unenthusiastic.)
I take great umbrage at the lie that I’ve lied about Joe Wilson’s lies about what he found in Niger when he lied about the administration’s lying about what he found before he started lying about it-or I would take great umbrage, if I could keep a straight face. Unfortunately, every time I do I think of the touching dedication of Ambassador Wilson’s hilariously titled memoir The Politics of Truth: “To my wife Valerie . . . If I could give you back your anonymity I would do so in a minute.”





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