I'm sorry, but the story about the Little Red Book hoax (and the now disappearing "student") continues to not make sense:

Mr. Hoey, the university spokesman, said the university had been unable to substantiate any of the facts of the story since it first was reported in The Standard-Times on Dec. 17.

As to any possible repercussions against the student, Mr. Hoey said, "We consider this to be an issue to be handled faculty member to student. We wouldn't discuss publicly any other action. Student discipline is a private matter."

Dr. Williams said the whole affair has had one bright point: The question of whether it is safe for students to do research has been answered.

"I can now tell my students that it is safe to do research without being monitored," he said. "With that hanging in the air like before, I couldn't say that to them."

The student's motivation remains a mystery, but in the interview on Thursday, he provided a glimpse.

"When I came back, like wow, there's this circus coming on. I saw my cell phone, and I see like, wow, I have something like 75 messages and like something like 87 missed calls," he said. "Wow, I was popular. I usually get one or probably two a week and that's about it, and I usually pick them up."

How do we know he even exists? We have only the word of the same reporter who broke the story (Aaron Nicodemus), plus the professors who were supposedly conned, and "university spokesman John Hoey," who seems overly eager to provide official cover for both the student and his professors.

The tale was so laughably unbelievable that at this point I can't believe anyone in this group ever believed it.

I'm wondering whether they ever did. Naturally, this makes me wonder about the "source."

(Considering his statement that he received "75 messages and like something like 87 missed calls," his identity shouldn't be too tough to track down.)

MORE: The Boston Globe claims that someone from the Globe spoke to the student, but won't say who, nor will they identify him:

The student was not identified in any reports. The Globe interviewed him Thursday but decided not to write a story about his assertion, because of doubts about its veracity. The student could not be reached yesterday.

Williams said the student gave no explanation. But Williams, who praised the student as hard-working and likeable, said he was shaken by the deception.

''I feel as if I was lied to, and I have no idea why," said Williams, an associate professor of Islamic history. He said the possibility the government was scrutinizing books borrowed by his students ''disturbed me tremendously."

Regarding the hoaxster's professor, his website shows that he's a sophisticated international traveler, and not someone who'd be expected to be taken in so lightly.

The story just doesn't make sense. What's going on now more resembles political damage control than reporting.

MORE: Because he asks such a good question, Glenn Reynolds' comment is well worth repeating:

I'm disturbed tremendously that such a suspicious story was accepted so uncritically by alleged critical thinkers -- and I'm a bit surprised that the student's identity is still being protected. Why shouldn't we know who's behind this?

If I may be permitted to speculate, I'll offer an answer.

Because, if it were discovered that the identity of the person claiming to be protected was fictitious, that might shed too much light on who's behind this!

If, on the other hand, there really is an unnamed student whose identity is being protected, it would behoove the professor(s) to speak up.

Otherwise speculation like this is fair game.

MORE: Regarding motivation, I want to return to the apparent claim by original reporter Aaron Nicodemus that the student wanted attention ("Wow, I was popular. I usually get one or probably two a week and that's about it, and I usually pick them up.")

I think it's very odd that a student who enjoys a circus atmosphere would not want more. (And I agree with commenter Swen Swenson that it's even odder that "one of those [87] callers wouldn't like call the press just to like claim their 15 minutes.")

Unless, of course there is no student. And no 87 calls.

AND MORE: There's a reason I'm dwelling on this at such length, and that's because if the student did not exist, the hoax becomes much larger (and infinitely more perfidious) than if he did.

I think the people who pushed this story now have a duty of full disclosure.

MORE: I'm also intrigued by Professor Pontbriand's statement that the alleged student is in need of care and attention:

"It was a disastrous thing for him to do. He needs attention, he needs care. I feel for the kid. We have great concern for this student's health and welfare."

If Professor Pontbriand knows that this student has health problems, when and how did he discover that? Is additional information being withheld?

Or is the professor assuming that lying is a form of illness?

(If it is, the world is a much sicker place than I thought . . .)

MORE: It is possible that the student could be half-fake. That is, there might have been no student with the initial story, but as the pressure built, the professor found someone willing to impersonate the alleged lying student, safe in thne assurance that he would simply disappear and his identity would never be known. That way, people could honestly claim that they'd seen and talked to him. But this is all pure speculation, based on the mysterious failure to identify a "confidential liar."

AND MORE: Michelle Malkin discusses campus hoaxes. (The "Little Red hoax" isn't the first one...)