It takes more than a bumper sticker
By MARK
STEYN
This
has been a strange and deadly week in America. On Monday, two bombs exploded at
the Boston Marathon, the first successful terrorist attack on a civilian target
on American soil since 9/11.
And yet
a mere two days later, Boston's death toll was surpassed by a freak fertilizer
accident at a small town in Texas.
In
America, all atrocities are not equal: Minutes after the Senate declined to
support so-called gun control in the wake of the Newtown massacre, the
president rushed ill-advisedly on air to give a whiny, petulant performance
predicated on the proposition that one man's mass infanticide should call into
question the constitutional right to bear arms.
Simultaneously,
the media remain terrified that another man's mass infanticide might lead you
gullible rubes to question the constitutional right to abortion, so the ongoing
Kermit Gosnell trial in Philadelphia has barely made the papers — even though
it involves large numbers of fully delivered babies who were decapitated and
had their feet chopped off and kept in pickling jars. Which would normally be
enough to guarantee a perpetrator front-page coverage for weeks on end.
In the
most recent testimony, one of the "clinic"'s "nurses"
testified that she saw a baby delivered into the toilet, where his little arms
and feet flapped around as if trying to swim to safety.
Then
another "women's health worker" reached in and, in the procedure's
preferred euphemism, "snipped" the baby's neck — i.e., severed his
spinal column.
"Doctor"
Gosnell seems likely to prove America's all-time champion mass murderer. But
his victims are ideologically problematic for the media, and so the poor
blood-soaked monster will never get his moment in the spotlight.
The
politicization of mass murder found its perfect expression in one of those near
parodic pieces to which the more tortured self-loathing dweebs of the fin de
civilization west are prone. As the headline in Salon put it, "Let's Hope
The Boston Marathon Bomber Is A White American." David Sirota is himself a
white American, but he finds it less discomforting to his Princess Fluffy Bunny
worldview to see his compatriots as knuckle-dragging nutjobs rather than
confront all the apparent real-world contradictions of the diversity quilt. He
had a lot of support for his general predisposition.
"The
thinking, as we have been reporting, is that this is a domestic extremist
attack," declared Dina Temple-Raston, NPR's "counterterrorism
correspondent."
"Officials are leaning that way largely because of the timing of the attack. April is a big month for anti-government and right-wing individuals. There's the Columbine anniversary, there's Hitler's birthday, there's the Oklahoma City bombing, the assault on the Branch Davidian compound in Waco."
Miss
Temple-Raston was born in my mother's homeland of Belgium, where, alas, there
were more than a few fellows willing to wish the Fuhrer happy birthday back
when he was still around to thank you for it. But it was news to me it was such
a red-letter day in the Bay State. Who knew? At NPR,
"counterterrorism" seems to mean countering any suggestion that this
might be terrorism from you know, the usual suspects.
Sirota's
column appeared on Tuesday. By Wednesday he got his wish, not regarding the
Boston perp but with the ricin guy, a man who (in further echoes of those first
days after 9/11) mailed poison-laced letters to a Republican senator and the
Democrat president. The would-be ricin terrorist turned out to be not a
jihadist from Yemen or Waziristan but an Elvis impersonator from Mississippi
whom Sen. Roger Wicker had once booked as entertainment for a friend's party.
Kevin
Curtis is not just your run-of-the-mill Elvis impersonator, but a seven-time
finalist in the prestigious "Images Of The King" competition. Yet he
is, in fact, the second Elvis impersonator to be mixed up with ricin, following
the arrest last year of Michael Conley in a Florida motel room after a showdown
with cops in which he brandished a vial of white powder at them.
Despite
this pattern of behavior, Sirota is probably right. There will be no profiling
of Elvis impersonators by Homeland Security. No one will stare suspiciously if
someone is seen walking around the perimeter of sensitive facilities in a
rhinestone-studded white jumpsuit with flyaway collars. The president is
unlikely to drone Vegas. Elvis impersonators can post all the threats they want
("If you're looking for trouble, you've come to the right place/If you're
looking for trouble, look right in my face") and the Islamophobic security
state will still pursue its peculiar obsessions.
Twenty-four
hours later, Sirota had a second feather in his cap. The two suspects in the
Boston bombing turned out to be Caucasian males — that's to say, males from the
Caucasus, specifically the North Caucasus, Chechnya by way of Dagestan.
Unfortunately
for his delicate sensitivities, the two Caucasians were also Muslims. They were
alumni of Cambridge Rindge and Latin, one of the oldest public schools in
America and latterly one of the most "diverse," boasting (being the
operative word) students from over 80 countries.
The
Tsarnaev brothers had spent most of their lives in the United States, and lived
the diversity dream. They seem to have had a droll wit when it comes to
symbolism: Last year, the younger brother took his oath of citizenship and
became an American on Sept. 11. And, in their final hours of freedom, they
added a cruel bit of mockery to their crimes by carjacking a getaway vehicle
with a "CO-EXIST" bumper sticker.
Oh, you
must have seen them: I bet Sirota has one. The "C" is the Islamic
crescent, the "O" is the hippy peace sign; the "X" is the
Star of David, the "T" is the Christian cross; I think there's some
LGBT, Taoist and Wiccan stuff in there, too. They're not mandatory on vehicles
in Massachusetts; it just seems that way.
I
wonder, when the "CO-EXIST" car is returned to its owner, whether he
or she will keep the bumper sticker in place. One would not expect him to
conclude, as the gays of Amsterdam and the Jews of Toulouse and the Christians
of Egypt have bleakly done, that if it weren't for that Islamic crescent you
wouldn't need a bumper sticker at all. But he may perhaps have learned that
life is all a bit more complicated than the smiley-face banalities of the
multiculturalists.
It's
very weird to live in a society where mass death is important insofar as it
serves the political needs of the dominant ideology. A white male loner killing
white kindergartners in Connecticut is news; a black doctor butchering black
babies in Pennsylvania is not.
When
the manhunt in Boston began, I received a bunch of emails sneering I was
gagging for it to be the Muzzies just as hungrily as lefties were for it to be
an NRA guy, a Tea Partier, a Sarah Palin donor. But, actually, I wasn't. On
Monday, it didn't feel Islamic: a small death toll at a popular event but not
one with the resonance and iconic quality the big-time jihadists like — like
9/11, the embassy bombings, the USS Cole. After all, if the jihad crowd wanted
to blow up a few people here and there IRA-style they could have been doing it
all this last decade.
On the
other hand, it didn't feel like one of those freelance bumblers — the
Pantybomber, the Times Square Bomber — finally got lucky. It feels like
something in between, something new. Is it just a one-off? Or a strategic
evolution?
Either
way, the fatuities of the "CO-EXIST" bumper sticker are not real. The
disaffected young Muslim on the lam in a car with a "CO-EXIST"
sticker is.
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