GALLEONS OF SPAIN OFF JERSEY COAST. Tbogg has fingered a few recent examples of the "You can't fact-check an anecdote" genre, whereby National Review writers say Mister, I met a man once and proceed to recount some flattering tale about their own kind. The variants cited by Tbogg involve "reader mail" -- a perfect double-blind for this sort of operation: not only do you get an extra layer of protection against detection, you also get to frostily inform challengers that, while the identity of your correspondent cannot be revealed, you can personally vouch for his authenticity and veracity, and all the proof any man should need is the word of a paid political operative. Then, as your challengers sputter in outrage, you run off to audition a new Swift Boat Veteran for Truth or something.

Well, two can play at that game! Here is a letter from a Very Trustworthy Person whose name is none of your business, forwarded to me by an equally unimpeachable source, who found it in a hollow log to which he was directed by God Himself:

I am continually amazed at the level of quiet support for Kerry here in Fritters, Alabama. Though some few of our citizens regularly drag his flaming effigy along the dirt track we call Main Street, among the mobs that turn out to watch these spectacles I see many who are not literally flaming from the eyes with hatred, and even some that decline to hurl their own feces at the effigy. These fine men and women I'm sure will support our candidate in November.

Just the other day I spoke to a schoolteacher, who told me, "During the Convention I was beaten, spit on, and gang-raped by Republicans for teaching evolution. Though I have always voted for Republicans in the past, I shall mark my ballot this year for John Kerry." I smell a landslide.

I have many old but equally authentic letters that can also be used in a pinch.