At a recent dinner party, a liberal friend of mine parroted Dean by saying, “Hussein’s capture doesn’t make me feel any safer.” Diplomacy kept me from doing anything but nodding sagely. I could have said this:
Look: whether you feel safer or not, you are. Hussein was a criminal with a pathological hatred of the West (but not our civilization’s benefits) and a great deal of money and power. He paid the families of homicide bombers to self-detonate in our allies’ pizza parlors and buses, and flaunted every international law on the books (I’m sure you’re a proponent of international law, right?). And guess what: since the war started, North Korea has come to the bargaining table, and since Hussein’s capture, noted murderous tyrant Moammar Khaddafi has expressed interest in arms inspections. Now, I wouldn’t trust Khaddafi any further than I could comfortably spit a rat, but I think he realizes that his time is coming up. If that doesn’t make you feel safer, I don’t know what will. I’ll tell you what, though: I won’t feel completely safe from terrorism until every single militant Islamist is either in prison or six feet underground. They don’t fear death or injury. All they fear is failure. They hate us with the intensity of a thousand suns, not because of what we do, but because of who we are. There’s no way to disabuse someone of that kind of loathing. So, for our safety, we must kill them. We must stamp them out like we stamped out smallpox and polio. And I thank God daily that our President understands this, even if you don’t.
But I didn’t say those things, because I didn’t want to alienate my friend. On a side note, this dinner party included a white elephant gift exchange, with one of the gifts being a photo album of people skydiving and holding hands with Bush and Hussein’s faces plastered over the actual persons. Lots of people thought it was funny.
I posted yesterday that the threat level had been lifted to orange. I have to do some air travel during this holiday season, and by God it pisses me off to no end that in addition to worrying about catching some other passenger’s flu, I have to think about what I’ll do in case some Islamist motherfucker stands up and decides he wants to crash my plane into a building for Allah. It infuriates me. Militant Islamists have taken away my choice to lead a safer life. I don’t have the option of a “terrorist” or “non-terrorist” flight. All I can do is bring a nice metal pen with me because they won’t let me carry my own personal cutting instrument on the plane, let alone my Airweight ASP or OC gas. And the nice TSA agents won’t look harder at some turban-wearing jerkoff than they will the elderly woman with a walker for fear of “racial profiling,” despite the incontrovertible fact that the vast majority of terrorist attacks on Americans have been perpetrated by militant Islamists from the Middle East. If it’s the fear of pissing someone off by singling him out due to accident of birth over the risk of my death, I choose making Mr. Habib angry every single day of the week and three goddamn times on Sunday. So, like I do every day before I leave the house, I say to myself, “Not me, and not today,” and I keep alert. I don’t want to do that, but like I’ve said, they haven’t given me the choice.
Air travel has sucked big green donkey dick for years. It sucks worse now. I feel that my anger is justified. How does it make you feel? Are you safer now than you were on 9/10/01? I plan on taking that anger and, if necessary, saving my life with it.