I'm already feeling sorry for Cindy Sheehan, because I sense that she's hit about minute 13 of her 15 minutes of fame.

If you spend some time reading the debate on Kos (see below), you'll understand why. The site, which based on its sheer size one must assume is somewhat representative of left-wing thought, is a mental pinball machine. The debate about the public relations opportunity Sheehan poses bounces from "speaking truth to power" to Jungian psychology to the nature of "archetype" to a song about her sung to the tune of a pop song.

This crowd will drop Cindy Sheehan as soon as the lens caps go on, or as soon as the next invented scandal involving the White House captures its fertile imagination.

She's become accustomed to the attention of the media and the adulation of the carry-a-sign-and-chant crowd. Eventually the chanters will leave - there must be a globalization summit or Phish concert at which to sing - and the media will leave. And of course, George Bush will leave Crawford to go back to Washington, where protesters outside the residence are also an everyday thing. So one can't help but picture Sheehan in her ditch, alone.

She's alienated her family, she's angered half the nation (which she'll learn as soon as she starts talking to people other than media and anti-war groups), and she will not have got her meeting with the president. If she's remembered at all (doubtful), she'll be remembered unkindly not because she questioned the war, but because she questioned the war using the rhetoric of those whose obvious primary motive is hatred of the president and hatred of the US. Perhaps if she performed the same vigil telling the media that she was angry about the lack of troop support in Sadr City, or that she thought the war on terror should have focused on a different place, her memory among the public would be kinder.

But she didn't. Instead, she talked about "war for oil" and aligned herself with the likes of Michael Moore. Which is why very soon, Cindy Sheehan will be very much alone.