Back in February, a powerful Pennsylvania state senator named Vincent Fumo was indicted on a slew of federal corruption charges. If nothing else, the government's lengthy complaint against the South Philly Democrat made for an entertaining read--a case study in what observers euphemistically like to call the city's "colorful" political culture. Among other things, Fumo was charged with using state money to hire private investigators to tail his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend as well as conduct surveillance on a political sign to make sure it wasn't stolen by rivals. He allegedly had state staffers pay his bills, fix his toilets, and drive his car to Martha's Vineyard while he flew by private jet. And he was also charged with having a nonprofit community organization clear sidewalks in front of political allies' houses and buy him 19 Oreck vacuum cleaners--one for each storey of his four residences. Colorful, indeed. A Washington Post reporter was duly dispatched to chronicle Fumo's misadventures and note that he makes the likes of Duke Cunningham and Bob Ney "seem like penny-ante pikers." And that's how the story might have stayed: Another amusing dose of bumbling, larcenous exotica from the city whose pols have changed little in the century since muckraker Lincoln Steffens famously described them as "corrupt and contented." But then the Bush administration came along. Fumo, who has loudly proclaimed his innocence, this month sent a letter to constituents using that well-tested last refuge of political scoundrels: It's all a political conspiracy. Laughable? Alas, Fumo--and folks like him all over the country--now have a hefty chunk of evidence to employ, courtesy of Alberto Gonzalez et al. "If you have followed the news coming from Washington DC in recent months, you are aware that there is not a great deal of controversy regarding the pressure placed on U.S. Attorneys under the Bush Administration to pursue politically motivated prosecutions," he wrote. --Michael Currie Schaffer