My life-partner is often the spark that causes the flame of writing to happen. Yesterday, after hearing about President Bush's recent interviews, he quipped "How come every time someone asks Bush if he made mistakes, Bush starts by talking about how wonderful the military is?"

"It's kind of like some mayoral candidate confronted by a gunman grabbing the nearest baby and shielding himself, and saying 'You wouldn't shoot this innocent baby, would you?'"

No one is asking Bush if the troops on the ground made mistakes - they're asking if HE made mistakes.

A children's story by Siegfried Engelmann and Elaine C. Bruner, "The Pet Goat" rocketed to pseudo-stardom on September 11, 2001, when 'President' George W. Bush sat with a group of children in their classroom reading it while the United States experienced the most heinous acts of terrorism in history.

At the time of the attacks, Andrew Card slipped into the classroom and notified Mr. Bush of the attacks; the next seven minutes of silence as he continued to sit in the room will never be forgotten.

This is not a diary about a book, but on the eerie appropriateness of the story as an analogy to what we now see unfolding in our nation today -- the abandoning of Mr. Bush by his party and minions, and the equally damning confirmation that he has been, all along, their pet goat. A scapegoat, to be precise.  Jump with me...