Just like Atticus Finch!

“Atticus don’t ever do anything to Jem and me in the house that he don’t do in the yard,” I said, feeling it my duty to defend my parent.

“Gracious, child, I was raveling a thread, [said Miss Maudie] wasn’t even thinking about your father, but now that I am I’ll say this: Atticus Finch is the same in his house as he is on the public streets. How’d you like some fresh poundcake to take home?”
To Kill A Mockingbird, Chap. V

Captain Ed Morrissey shares a secret about George W. Bush:

Unbeknownst to Bush, the microphones used by the press earlier remained on when he began to address the conference in its closed session. Sounds like a reporter’s dream come true? It must have seemed that way when he began talking about the NSA surveillance program after asking the attendees to keep the remarks to themselves.

So what secrets did Bush tell them about the wiretaps? Let’s just say it shocked the press:

However, the microphones stayed on for a few minutes. That allowed journalists back at the White House to eavesdrop on Bush’s defense of the eavesdropping. His private statements were basically no different from what he’s said in public.

Writes Ed: Wow … what a shock! The press had a golden opportunity to nail Bush — but they discovered that he tells the same story behind closed doors that he tells the American public. They discovered that the GOP has no great conspiracy … just a President trying his best to defend his country from terrorist attacks.

Leaving aside questions as to how the microphone was left on, and the ethics of the journalists who listened in on what was supposed to be classified information, let’s get to the point. The dirty little secret about George W. Bush – one that remains incomprehensible to a press besotted by politicos and a party devoted to spin and doublegoodnewspeak – is that he is behind closed doors the same man as he is before the cameras.

And all the rest of it, as put out there by the left and the media? Mostly projection of their own attributes and attitude upon the man they hate.

How’d you like some poundcake to swallow that down with?