Fundamentalism loses its sway, even as politicians profess their faith. Let's ask them: how does God guide you, exactly?

By Jeff Sharlet

There is a sense in circles once strictly liberal, lately broadened to include retired generals, nervous money, and mild-mannered Republicans, that the long nightmare—not just the Bush administration but the last three decades of piety politics, brought by the 43rd president to a tortured crescendo—is coming to an end. Cheney’s been beaten back into his bunker, and Bush is beating his chest, reportedly pounding his pecs before a group of Texas pals and hooting “I am the president! I am the president!” This cannot even be construed as canny stupidity, like Ronald Reagan letting “slip” a joke about bombing the Evil Empire, like LBJ slapping his pecker across the presidential desk and daring Senate foes to measure against him. Bush’s ape routine is simply proof that evolution is real and that it has a reverse button. The President is regressing, shrinking, squeaking as he dwindles. “Look at me! Look at me!” But the adults, the clever and the wicked, are turning away, leaving the zoo, by choice or under armed guard...

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