The "Libor" bank scandal—in which banks in Britain are accused of fudging interest rate benchmarks to their own benefit—gains an unlikely hero of sorts. Treasury Secretary Tim Geithner, back when he was running the New York Fed, complained to bank leaders in 2008 that the whole thing stank something rotten and wasn't "credible."

The fallout from a single disastrous trade by JPMorganChase (because banks can police themselves!) is even worse than initially thought: $5.8 billion in losses, up from a mere $2 billion.

The stinky fart cloud of Bain Capital continues to follow Willard Romney wherever he goes, and no matter how hard he tries to fan the air behind his horse-saddle-hardened derriere.

The Syrian rebellion is undeniably seeping into the formerly impregnable capital city, Damascus—thanks to a swell of angry refugees and smoke plumes from suburban bombardments.

A leading Ethiopian blogger,
journalists, and others were arrested and sentenced to lengthy jail terms for aiding and abetting the cause of revolution.

Gandhi might have been gay? India's government is spending more than $1 million to buy up some old letters that imply a sweet and ardent romance between the Mahatma and an architect.

A Washington DC cop is accused of discussing his desire to kill the first lady, even showing off a picture of the gun he'd like to use.

The Oregonian seems to be crowing that it got the feds to punish low-income people who rely on medicinal pot for pain relief. After the paper raised the issue, the feds said Oregon could no longer deduct pot as a "medical cost" when figuring out if a family earns a paltry enough income to qualify for food stamps.

The daughter of a prominent college football coach is accused of drunkenly beating a fellow sorority member so savagely that the girl needed reconstructive surgery. They were played the most insane-sounding drinking game ever: Power Hour, in which "students drink at the end of every song on YouTube."

Yee-haw! We's gonna be gettin' a horse-killin' factory!

HOW LONG UNTIL SOMEONE AT YOUR JOB (OR IN YOUR UNEMPLOYED, ON-THE-COUCH FEVER DREAMS) MENTIONS TODAY'S DATE TO EXPLAIN SOMETHING SEEMS WEIRD BUT THAT'S ACTUALLY FAIRLY MUNDANE?