Gadhafi was buried today. Times like these, I like to indulge a fantasy of a quite literal Hell, where I imagine him now slowly twisting on a spit above flames, earbuds glued into place and piping, say, "Friday" into his brain over and over again, and, even worse for him, stuck wearing the same outfit for all Eternity. I imagine Yankee pinstripe pants, a Texas Longhorns jersey, big, fluffy bunny slippers and a yarmulke.