Say you're the editor-in-chief of a ridiculously popular content aggregation site. Say your so-called "Viral Politics Editor," a conservative shill who for some insane reason prefers the nickname "Benny," has been publicly called out for plagiarism. Imagine that even though you previously defended Benny as "one of the web's deeply original writers," your review shows that Benny has committed 41 instances of plagiarism.

In your job as editor-in-chief, you've been working very hard for a very long time to convince people to think of your little content aggregation site as a legitimate news source, so this is an especially embarrassing thing to discover—particularly since Benny has been under fire for a long time for being a hack republisher of conservative bullet-points.

So what do you do? You drop the news that Benny has been fired at 8:30 on a Friday night in July, when you know nobody but the most media-savvy insiders are watching. You probably get nervous when conservatives including slimeball RedState editor-in-chief Erick Erickson start defending Benny's plagiarism:

But you dropped the news on Comic-Con weekend, so the good news is that in a few hours everyone is busy talking about Wonder Woman's new costume, and nobody remembers Benny at all. By Monday morning, Benny will be a shadow, a gust of wind on a cloudy evening. It's like nobody remembers your Viral Politics Editor ever existed at all.