It was more than a farce before today, as I wrote in the Sunday Mirror, but the Giggs (there, I've said it) saga is now beyond fantasy.
The courts have been left floundering because the law is exceedingly slow to move and we live in an age in which everything else moves with breathtaking rapidity. It was a laugh when in the sixties a learned judge asked "Who are the Beatles?", but it's not amusing when they do the equivalent today by refusing to understand Twitter.
Ultimately, though, the weapon that blasted the rock away from the mouth of the super-injunction cave wasn't Twitter but the ancient ruse of Parliamentary privilege. And I'm not sure that Parliamentary privilege should cover what has been going on in the Commons and Lords.
An MP or peer cannot get up in the House and say of someone standing trial "He is as guilty as sin" or whatever. That is considered to be interfering with justice. So why can they break a court order?
The Speaker should have jumped up (he likes doing that) and ordered that what the hon. member had just said should not be reported by the media as it was not covered by privilege. Though had he done that, Bercow would have been hung by the press.
Don't think the problem of the super-injunction is dead now. The lawyers - like those very clever tax accountants - will always find a way to keep ahead of the game.
Prepare yourselves for something like the supercalifragilistic-injunction which will make the current reporting bans look mild.
It is only the rich and powerful who have had resort to the courts and all that money they flash around will find a home in a law office somewhere.
Meanwhile the phone hacking scandal gathers pace as MPs, mainly, try to get back at the press for exposing the scandal of their expenses.
It is a monumental struggle between two unedifying armies and there can be only one winner. Unless the politicians unite to smash the media. And, frankly, they simply haven't the balls to do that.