Just call them the Ten Post-Impeachment Commandments.

1. Blame the accuser.
When caught doing something terrible, deny everything and vilify your accusers. No matter how incredible your story, keep insisting that you are the victim of a political vendetta. A lot of journalists, politicians, and most of the people will actually believe you. (This will work for Democrats only.)

2. Never admit guilt.
If we’ve learned anything, it is that no matter how compelling the evidence against you, never, ever, admit you are wrong. Whether it is irrefutable DNA evidence or its political equivalent, just take refuge in the technicalities of criminal law, the majesty of your station, and the intricate subtleties of the English language to evade responsibility.

3. Seek vengeance.
Faux contrition is well and good during a trial, but once you are cleared and enshrined as a martyr, it’s payback time. It does not matter that you have spent months decrying "the politics of personal destruction." That was then and this is now. Let it be known that your new passion in life is revenge.

4. Demonize your adversaries.
Never mind that your adversaries are honorable people doing their job, following the law and trying to get you to do the same. So what if they are attempting to serve the constitution you violated? Nobody cares about that anymore, and the polls prove it.

5. Mock the law.
Declare every legal action against you illegitimate and every opponent dishonorable. The law doesn’t apply to you so long as you go about the people’s business. Remember this above all: no matter what you’ve done (a) You didn’t do it. (b) If you did, it isn’t that bad. (c). The law doesn’t apply in this case.

6. Proclaim it "personal."
Anything they say you did must derive from something personal that, unfortunately, became public. The utter beauty of this commandment is that no matter what you do, you are immune from public judgment and the reach of the law. After all, who among us is perfect and qualified to cast the first stone? And who wants to play the role of sex police? Thus, everything is personal.

7. Enshrine the polls.
Forget the Constitution. Forget the law. But never forget public opinion polls. Place these above all gods. So long as people like what you are saying you can appear impervious. Ignore your oath, break the law, subvert your office, whatever. Just keep that job-approval rating above 60 percent and, dude, you can do no wrong. Mob rule? Perhaps, but it’s your mob.

8. Honor celebrity.
Remember, right and wrong count less than celebrity. Make sure the jury is on your side. Once that happens, videotape, DNA samples and all forms of incriminating evidence are useless to your enemies. They will nullify the case against you "for the greater good." Tom Harkin did this right out in the open at the Senate trial. He vowed to "take into account factors other than the law and the facts." Is this a great country, or what?

9. Divide and conquer.
Pay copious lip service to national unity, but remember that strength is found in raw divisiveness. Always preach unity while pitting rich against the poor, black against white, old against young. By these time-tested means shall you satanize your opponents and convince your friends they desperately need you to protect them from themselves.

10. Look out for numero uno.
This pertains especially to Republicans. If you are confronted with an uncomfortable choice between honor and political expedience, devise a creative way to appear principled while abandoning the principles of your party. Wise up. The idea is to get re-elected, not to actually stand for anything. So, belittle the evidence. If the evidence is overwhelming, ridicule the prosecutors. If that doesn’t work, ignore all the facts and say you are heeding a higher call of the national good.

Live by these rules and not only might you become president of the United States, but remain in office, even when you’ve debased it.