Michael Fumento

Cindy Sheehan, who eats her young (or in any case exploits their dead bodies) got 30 minutes of fame instead of 15 and keeps trying to go for 45. It would be nice to think that she's getting a lot less attention because the media have finally figured out that her only real cause is Cindy Sheehan. But actually, it's probably just burnout. In the event, her antics could be worth following just for entertainment value -- especially if you like groaning. For example, I just learned from www.cindysheehanwatch.com that Sheehan went on a spending spree with her soldier son's $250,000 life insurance policy but somehow couldn't find loose change to give his body a headstone. We know because Vanity Fair had a two-page photo spread of her lying on the grave in a black catsuit. (Myself, I like to wear my Speedos when I visit loved ones in cemeteries.) It's not every day that Vanity Fair features trailer trash, but then Cindy Sheehan is by nobody's account an ordinary woman.