If you must put people on pedestals, wear a big hat.

Ah, schadenfreude.
Charlie's heart is gladdened by the downfall of Ted Haggard.
If, as I have suggested previously, you have watched that nice Mr Dawkins's Root of all Evil, then you will have seen Haggard in action. In spite of obviously being dumber than a bag of hammers, this lumphead was somehow smart enough to realise that Mr Dawkins was running rings around him and, in a fine display of self-righteous indignation, promptly threw him out of his 'church'.
Immediately, the name 'Haggard' was added to Charlie's special list of ones to watch.
And sure enough, he didn't disappoint us.
The leader of thirty million evangelicals is, it turns out, a drug-addled Bertie. Now hang on a second, you may protest, you're saying that like it's a bad thing Charlie, and of course you're right. What right have I to point this thing at anyone, wallowing as I do in my own pit of depravity? "Charlie, Charlie," you say,"What do you expect from a finger-pointing, curtain-twitching, god-bothering mountebank like that? Of course he's a wrong 'un. Look at the spud-headed, preening, smarmy little prig. Listen to the slavering, smug, holier-than-thou drivel he spouts. For crying out loud Charlie, don't tell us you expected him to be anything other than a lying, cheating, two-faced toerag?"
OK, but I haven't made my money by telling the hard-of-thinking how to live their miserable little lives - unlike the slimy, hypocritical Haggard. And you know damn well that in the fullness of time he'll be back, choking back the crocodile tears and whining that Satan made him do it, or the Lord was testing him, or some other feeble excuse, and his blinkered, grateful flock will welcome him right back into their open arms whilst clucking about forgiveness and repentance, and patting themselves on the back for their Christ-like clemency. The pompous viper will be right back where he started, and not one of his knuckle-dragging disciples will stop to think that everything -everything- he told them was a tissue of bare-faced lies (yes, including the god stuff). That's what rattles me. And that's why, for now, I'm going to enjoy every squirm and every tear, and relish each new twist of the knife in his hard, black, duplicitous heart.

As St. Jake put it, "Beware of the Bull..."