The next man on the dog pile was Fox's Carl Cameron. If he had a British accent, Cameron could make an archetypal, central-casting Jeeves the Butler -- rigid posture, preternatural cleanliness, and a gentleman's ascetic devotion to the grace of the verbal bullfight. Cameron thinks beautifully on his chair; he is one of the few players able to receive the blast of Ivory soap flakes emitted each day by McClellan, and with a bit of spit and panache, mold seamless, articulate snowballs to chuck back at Scott's head. Cameron's look involves a lot of super-grooming and contraptions -- there is a level of clipped, germ-free, ultra-professional influence to his appearance that I can only liken to looking at an astronaut, or a baby in an intensive care unit.

CAMERON: ...One gets the sense that you think that there's an "I told you so" coming here for the administration, because the press, in the past four months, has been writing the president off as a lame duck. Is that what you're doing? And, if so, why?

McCLELLAN: No, I wouldn't say that. But I remember being in this room, I remember all the coverage at the time, just two months ago, and, frankly, there hasn't been a whole lot of focus in the media this week on the significant accomplishments that are being achieved for the American people...

CAMERON: So, if I may -- pardon the interruption -- are you suggesting then that the absence of coverage to your standard is because the media is deliberately trying to suppress that information on behalf of the administration?

McCLELLAN: All I know is that there was a lot of coverage saying, two months ago, that the president wasn't going to get anything done on the domestic agenda, that he was maybe entering lame-duck status, and the facts say otherwise. We are getting things done for the American people, and the ones who are benefiting are the American people. Thank you.

Perhaps the biggest surprise that day was when ol' Les Kinsolving picked up Ken Herman's undignified question from the previous day:

KINSOLVING: Scott, the Washington Post this morning reports that, "Many days, no doubt, he" -- that's you, Scott -- "he harbors his own desires to finger his feelings about reporters." (Laughter.) ... And my question is, since the Post also reports that "The president suddenly thrust his right hand into the air and extended a finger." White House officials yesterday said it was his thumb. Could this be interpreted as the traditional thumbs-up signal, or is it a mistake to confuse the president's thumb with his middle finger?

I have a follow up.

McCLELLAN: Les, OK, I found all this kind of preposterous --

KINSOLVING: It was in the Washington Post.

Even Kinsolving was throwing his gas on the fire. Hands raised all over the room. McClellan was on the ropes again, and the blood tasted like chocolate on everyone's teeth.

And then, there was a very strange, Dr. Seuss-y moment, where the Dust Speck spoke, proving unequivocally that there was a whole, inconceivably tiny, foreign world sitting in full view of the American White House. A visiting Japanese journalist was called on. He stood up with his hands folded, formally, respectfully. His English was pretty rough, but his point was clear:

JAPANESE JOURNALIST: Thank you. I was born and raised in Hiroshima, Japan. (Inaudible). And August 6th (the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima) is coming again ...I believe the use of automatic weapons during World War II was cruel and (inaudible), against international law ... So in the history of human beings, losers cannot say anything, winners make history as they like.

McCLELLAN: Is there a question?

Yes. Sixty years have passed ... I would not necessarily ask, recommend President Bush or someone say someone should apologize, but I believe some statement or comment is needed...

McCLELLAN: I understand. I think I'll leave the history to historians. I mean, we're all well aware of the history. But the president is focused on the future, and we do have a great relationship with Japan. The president has a good friend in Prime Minister Koizumi.

This is an example of how freedom leads to peace, because 60 years ago, as you pointed out, and the president often points out, we were enemies. Today we're working together to advance freedom in places like the broader Middle East, and what we're doing is laying the foundation of peace for our grandchildren and our -- for our children and our grandchildren. And I think that's important, to remember the past, but to look to the future and how we can continue to build upon the great relationship that we have. And the president is pleased to have a good friend like Prime Minister Koizumi, who understands the importance of that.

It was such a singularly dissatisfying response to what was a very moving question that one corps regular felt horrified enough to have a real, live emotional meltdown outside, ranting, "Talking out the side of his neck! God! I feel unclean!" Others looked on numbly, saying nothing.

I was told that everybody freaks out like this occasionally -- it's an occurrence not unlike acne or parking tickets. The mendacity and disgust hits a fever point and somebody loses it, as quietly and anonymously as possible, and everyone collectively pretends it didn't happen, out of politeness, because, after all, everybody has those days, and they all have to come back tomorrow.

Scott McClellan is the Undertaker of Information. With the gentle sterility of a mortician, McClellan puts a dark suit on every day and tells us, in a soothing voice, how comfortable our beloved information will be now that it is dead and resting in an attractive coffin. The press -- outraged family members of the strangled Truth -- wail, "But Scott, it wasn't dead before you guys got your hands on it!" And the Undertaker, unruffled, sympathetic and appropriately somber, politely informs you that it is part of an ongoing investigation, and he believes he has already told you what the president's comments were on that.

After a while, it is sickeningly passive-aggressive.

But the bottom line is, Scott is telling the truth: The truth is dead. And you're never going to see it again. It's in heaven now, with Chandra Levy and JonBenet Ramsey and Nicole Brown Simpson. He understands your grief, but getting angry won't bring it back.

Worst of all, where to put the blame in Washington is never entirely clear -- all the alleys are big and dark, and everyone knows that if blame is ever placed anywhere higher than the collective navel, it will only get deflected.

"This president cannot get up at this stage and explain this war," said Helen Thomas. "If he did, and if reporters asked at his very few press conferences -- his rare press conferences, How can you defend all the untruths that were said in the run up to the war? How can you stand there, when thousands of people are dead when we went to war under false premises?"

"Have you asked this question?" I asked.

"No. I don't have a chance, but somebody should. I want everybody to wake up, and say, Is this us?"

Thomas is right. The White House press corps needs serious help -- a rallying point, a Charlemagne, someone who could take its beaten peoples and convince them of how much they could achieve together. But seriously, there is nothing more the corps could have done, those weeks in the James S. Brady Press Briefing Room. I was there. They could have ganged up and pistol-whipped Scott's molars into glue and punctured his eardrums with his own American flag lapel pin, and they would have gotten the same sunny, bleating drivel until he was unconscious or dead. He's a damn good soldier, that McClellan. If any major player in this administration is ever kidnapped by al-Qaida and tortured for national secrets, we can only hope that it is he. Like a quality linoleum, Scott will never crack.

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