I saw National Treasure: Book of Secrets this past weekend. The titular book is a diary passed from president to president that holds all their deepest secrets. Given the vagaries of politics, that seems unlikely (Carter wouldn’t release Nixon’s missing 18-minute tape?), but the point of it is that the book contains a photo of a wooden plaque that was formerly concealed in a secret compartment of the Resolute desk—one half of a treasure map that has something to do with the Queen of England. Her Resolute desk (the feminine fraternal twin to our president’s) contains the other half. Naturally, Nick Cage must sneak into the Queen’s private office and the Oval Office (it looks just like GWB’s) to get the information that he needs, only it’s not there, and he has to ransack the Library of Congress. Unfortunately for him, the president’s secret book is one of the 17 million items I purloined from the Library of Congress a few months ago and the movie ends with him being nonplussed, chagrined, arrested, indicted, arraigned, and other French terms. The End.