In appreciation of Scott McClellan

Michael Wolff in Vanity Fair has a deep consideration of the inadvertant comedy stylings of White House press punching-bag, Scott McClellan. Not since Baghdad Bob has there been a government spokes-idiot who generates more scorn, disdain, and general eye-rolling. McClellan performs in an affectless, robotic recitation of a small repertoire of dodges and non-answers. No wit. No banter. No rapport. No information. Just a spasmodic spew of stammer, stonewall, and sweat. Other than serving as yet another example of the Bush penchant for appointing incompetent cronies from the Texas old-boys-and-girls network, what does McClellan tell us about the administration's view of people, press, and language? Wolff makes a case for upgrading the weaponry of the press gaggle with that greatest of smokescreens in all modern obfuscation: PowerPoint. But that would only give the camera another target and would diminish the comedy and entertainment value of watching a human attempt to impersonate a robot. Keep the camera on Scott. He's doin' a heckuva job.