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How strange it was to learn, on a Sunday, that Johnny Carson had died. Strange that it was a Sunday--one of only two nights of the week that he had not owned. That day, we didn't even have Letterman or Leno to look forward to in the hope that they would say something trenchant and touching. They did issue statements, but, because they weren't there in person to deliver them, their words went no deeper than the quite good statement put out by President Bush, who didn't know Carson and doesn't owe his career to him. (We can only dream about the jokes that Carson might have made about Bush.) But that was fine. This time, our own thoughts were enough. If Johnny hadn't made our careers, he had, after all, made our nights, and almost thirteen years after he was gone from public view--and there has hardly…