Elisabeth Bumiller, the Bichon Frise of the White House Press Corp, is well known for doing glowing image pieces about George W. Bush throughout his tenure in the White House.  That's what makes this profile of McCain in this morning's Times so amusing.  You know that Bumiller has been tasked with shining up the turd that McCain's campaign has been on the eve of the election. But the narrative is so meandering, and the article's point of view so erratic, that it ends up leaving the reader confused.

"McCain's in a strangely good mood!"  "McCain's relieved it's almost over."  "McCain's laughing it up with Lindsay Graham!"    "McCain is philosophical and amazed that he's come so far!"  "McCain wants this very badly." 

Even in what is supposed to be an image-softening personality piece, McCain's internal conflicts can't help but bubble to the surface.  

The reason has become clear:  

In his heart of hearts, I just don't think McCain's ever really wanted to be President.

I know, I know.  That can't possibly be.  The man has boundless, blinding ambition.

But ambition to do what?

We've seen over the course of this campaign that McCain will do and say pretty much anything to gain the White House.  And yet, in 2004, he turned down overtures by the Kerry Campaign to join the ticket as Vice President.  If he had crossed over to the Democratic ticket, I am absolutely certain that Kerry would have won.

But McCain when offered a chance to be a heartbeat away from the Presidency, McCain turned it down.  And I think, in retrospect, that was a really telling choice.

McCain loves nothing more than being in opposition.  Again and again, he labels himself a maverick -- but in practice, that means that what he really loves to do is sit in a cat bird seat and opine about the people who are actually making decisions.  And believe me -- I can sympathize!  We Democrats have had a lot of complaining to do over the last eight years.  We've worn that mantle for a while:  the President has been the decider, and we are, as Phil Gramm would say, have been the Complainers.

McCain revels in his opposition to, and outside status in, his own party.  And yet he votes to go along with his Party's policies 90 percent of the time.  What he loves about government is not the actual governing -- it's the fact that politics gives him the widest possible audience for his views.

It's been said before, but it's worth repeating:  McCain, when you get right down to it, is a Pundit.  He's appeared on Face the Nation more than anyone else in history.  He's a mainstay on Meet the Press, constantly updating his unique brew of Conventional Wisdom and mavericky contrarianism.  When a guy goes on politic talk shows as much as he does, you have to start to wonder if he sees the punditry as part of the job of governing -- or the other way around.

It's also worth noting that being a good Pundits doesn't guarantee you'll be a good leader any more than being a good critics makes you a good writers.  (Case in point:  Roger Ebert's best known screenplay was for a soft core porn movie!)

As a screenwriter myself, I often strive to portray that tension between a character's stated goals and their true underlying desires.  It's the contrast that Mick Jagger sang about so clearly -- "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need."  It's important for the hero of a story to take action towards what he wants, to fight  until the end -- but whether or not he gets it, the story rings truer if the audience senses at the end that the hero has achieved that deeper desire.

McCain's campaign tactics have left many former fans, including Jon Stewart, scratching their heads.  And in many ways, one could say that McCain's taken much more desperate, darker measures than anyone imagined he would try in order to gain the White House. 

The Jester King in exile, a titan of the opposition, prophet for all the dear Uncle Walters who rail at the TV screen.

He will be what he has always wanted to be:  Pundit Number One.