On most days Washington is far better at dismantling people and purposes than it is at building them up. So it should have been no surprise that at the close of David Souter week, the city seemed on the way to the ultimate absurdity: criticizing the Supreme Court nominee because there was not much about him to criticize.
The fire storm of babble that followed Souter's nomination was larger than even the White House scouts had predicted, yet it seemed to singe everybody but the nominee. His handlers stashed the gray-suited Souter in the shadowy Room 468 of the Old Executive...
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