Swift, snarky, long on style and autobiography, glib on policy and war and the crack-up of the Bush White House, Matt Latimer's breezy and comic memoir of his time writing speeches for Rummy and Bush is high-grade gossip. I am speaking to Matt Latimer on Saturday 3 October.  Latimer saw what he saw in and out of George W. Bush's presence. Like a foster child living at the palace, Latimer is best at illustrating those who believed they were entitled to be royal.  What emerges are affectionately icky portraits of the pretentious, rootless, self-dealing court figures and hangers-on in the Executive who schemed to get and stay close to the vacuum around POTUS. George Bush remains an uninteresting enigma -- not stupid, not sharp, not warm, not ungrounded, not comfortable, not purposeful, a kind of dull, unexplained, out of place mystery to the end. The villain is Hank Paulson, who does not much appear. Karl Rove is played for guffaws and jeers. There is a prim absence of romance or even tawdriness at the Bush White House. It was a ceaseless Methodist showroom. Latimer writes smoothly, like a sitcom writer trapped inside a magazine journalist. He will do well writing West Wing Wacko scripts.  Or producing motivational tapes.  And he is perfect for TV cameos.  Has he done Colbert more than once yet?