Call it schadenfreude if you'd like, or deeply sick sexual perversion if you must, but it's difficult not to feel the tiniest bit fantastic every time Bill O'Reilly gets owned on his own show. It's like when that overacheiver in your history class trips on a desk or has a family member die.

No-shot Republican candidate Ron Paul, who must not know he's in the Republican Party, took O'Reilly to town on all his talking points about the war last week. If Bill O. had any shame, he'd have been embarassed.

To be fair, O'Reilly, who slithered out of BU with a Master's Degree way back in the 70s when everyone was too coked out to prevent a thing like that, isn't hard to hate. What with his "No facts, please" attitude and his giant ego (and equally giant chins), he's like the Boogie Man of cable news commentators. Metaphorically, anyway. We all know Sean Hannity is the one who lives in the closets of small children. Or, at least, lives in closets. He's gay, is what I'm saying.