Not that it makes a bit of difference, of course -- there is that little deal about double jeopardy that appears in the US and California constitutions that makes another trial for the murders out of the question.

A memorabilia dealer who profited from O.J. Simpson for many years is the latest former crony to write a tell-all book, this one alleging a groggy Simpson, high on marijuana, confessed to killing his ex-wife after he was acquitted.

Mike Gilbert also claims he helped his former friend wiggle out of the murder charges by suggesting how to bloat his hands so they wouldn't fit the notorious bloody gloves.

Gilbert's book, "How I Helped O.J. Get Away With Murder: The Shocking Inside Story of Violence, Loyalty, Regret and Remorse" (Regnery Publishing, 232 pages, $27.95), is due in stores Monday. It was released to The Associated Press in advance.

He said Simpson had smoked pot, took a sleeping pill and was drinking beer when he confided at his Brentwood home weeks after his trial what happened the night of June 12, 1994. Simpson said he went to his ex-wife's condominium, but did not bring a knife with him. Simpson told him Nicole Brown Simpson had one in her hand when she opened the door.

In a soft mumble, Simpson told him: "If she hadn't opened that door with a knife in her hand ... she'd still be alive."

"Nothing more needed to be said," Gilbert writes. "O.J. had confessed to me. There's no doubt in my mind."

Blaming the victim? Well, that would be in keeping with the sociopathic tendencies that Simpson has demonstrated over the years.

My question is this -- even though we cannot imprison this murdering scumbag, why should we not engage in something much quite painful for this narcissistic man. You know, shunning.

Stop buying the books about him, his career, and his crimes. Stop the news coverage of his latest criminal trial, and ignore his well-deserved entry into prison after his conviction. And until then, sports shows should quit inviting him for autograph signings and businesses should quit doing business with him -- to the point that the staff of an empty restaurant would tell him "there doesn't seem to be a table available for you, Mr. Simpson." I'd argue that it would be a fate worse than death for him.