Harold Meyerson convinces us having Joe Lieberman around isn’t such a bad thing:

It is 3 a.m., and the stillness of the White House night is shattered by the ringing of the red phone. President John McCain, rousing himself from a deep sleep, turns on the light and picks up the receiver. A U.S. embassy in a Middle Eastern country, he is told, has been blown up, and al-Qaeda is taking credit.

McCain takes a deep breath. “Character counts, my friend,” he says. “Bomb Iran. Bomb, bomb Iran.”

There is a rustling of blankets, and, brushing aside Cindy McCain, a concerned Joe Lieberman rises from the bed. “Not Iran, Mr. President,” he says. “They hate al-Qaeda.”

“That’s right,” the president says. “I remember now.” He sighs with relief. “Good thing you’re here every night, Joe.”