The two Johns are in custody, meaning martial law has been
lifted in the national capital area and it’s safe again to show
one’s face in broad daylight and to pump one’s own gasoline. Or
more to the point, it’s safe again to resume more traditional forms
of sniping. The New York Times leads the way, informing
Republicans that DNC chairman Terry McAuliffe “describes Jeb Bush”
as the Democratic Party’s “top target.” In an interview with the
paper McAuliffe boastfully added that Democrats have learned to
stalk the commander in chief himself. “Wherever President Bush
goes, we’re on TV before he gets there, while he’s there and the
day after, every city.” And to think McAuliffe continues to stalk
his prey even though he collected an $18 million reward some years
ago. It appears now that that was just the first installment.
Two days ago we knew nothing about the two Johns. Today we know
more about them than we do about Winston Churchill. Already the
Immigration and Naturalization Service is under counterattack for
allowing the likes of John Lee Malvo into the U.S. from Jamaica.
But so far no one has picked up on his strange resemblance to the
older brother in an insufferable seventies sitcom, “Diff’rent
Strokes.” Meanwhile, to believe a Washington Post
headline, John Allen Muhammad is a creation of Arthur Miller: “A
Failed Businessman And Frustrated Father” he’s called. Because
capital punishment-shy Maryland may be reluctant to feature
Muhammad in a revival of Death of a Salesman, efforts are
under way to stage his trial and execution in Virginia.
Insiders are aghast at Mr. Muhammad’s links to Louis Farrakhan’s
Nation of Islam. The world now awaits Farrakhan sympathizer Jude
Wanniski’s verdict. If word comes that neighbors once overheard Mr.
Muhammad complain about high taxes, Mr. Muhammad may have found a
sympathizer on the supply side.
Even more disturbing is Mr. Muhammad’s military past. As yet no
one has suggested that this war veteran could be suffering from the
Gulf War Syndrome. But give it time. Symptoms aren’t always
immediately detectable. For now most of the attention has been on
Mr. Muhammad’s “expert marksman” skill with military rifles. Gun
control thus emerges as more urgent than ever, not merely in the
public sphere but also in the military. It is amazing, in
retrospect, that the effort to curb the sale and use of assault
weapons had exempted our armed forces. But that’s history. The goal
of all responsible anti-gun enthusiasts from now on will be to
disarm our military once and for all. Some might argue that we
should model our military on the Belgian armed forces, which do
their training with toy weaponry. But that might not be the
solution either, not since the campaign that was recently launched
in New York state to outlaw the production and sale of toy guns as
well.
London bobby style deportment may be the way to go, i.e., hands
behind one’s back and no police batons, please. For now, let’s
restrict any club-like weapons to the cricket and baseball
fields.
Though after the recent atrocity in San Francisco we’re having
second thoughts on that score too. We don’t mean the jolly Giants’
latest bludgeoning of the holy Angels. A 16-4 victory doesn’t do
you much good next time you’re in a one-run game. No, our concern
is the pre-game extra-innings MasterCard was allowed to host before
Wednesday’s World Series game, purporting to honor the ten most
memorable “moments” in Major League Baseball history. What utter
nonsense. By definition, a moment is not something that lasts more
than a few seconds. Yet here the credit card creeps were honoring
streaks that lasted weeks and years. As for the few actual moments
that cracked the top ten, viewers weren’t shown anything more than
the snippet they had already seen in countless commercials (e.g.
Lou Gehrig’s farewell) or informed of the key details (e.g. that
what made Kirk Gibson’s pinch-hit World Series home run heroic was
that he hit it on bum legs).
But that’s the least of it. Most inexplicable was the decision
to honor a baseball felon and to incite San Francisco Democrats in
the stands to cheer for him with the same gusto they normally
reserve for impeached former presidents. In best Al Capone fashion,
Pete Rose was so moved by the ovation he received that he nearly
confessed to his crimes, only to realize there’s no reason to admit
to anything lest it cost him the support of the patsies who adore
their gangster heroes. Sad to say, the closest Pete will ever get
to Hall of Fame status is this EOW award Enemy Central now confers
on him. In all, not a bad career: From Rookie of the Year in 1963
to Enemy of the Week in 2002. It’s been a tremendous head-first
downhill slide.
