the great game!

Yesterday I promised a part two of the worst party I'd ever attended. But I've got a flu coming on, so here's something I started this morning before my sinuses started filling up. Yummm.

James Conway, the latest US General in charge of the Irag-Afghanistan schlemozzle, repeated one of the standard rationales for the conflict: We fight them terrible terrorists there instead of here. Gen. Conway stated (from Salon.com): "Somehow I don’t think our people have made that connection and feel the same way that I do, and our troops do --that because there has not been an attack in this country is directly related to the fact that they are killing these … fanatics who would otherwise be trying to work their way in to Baltimore harbor or Los Angeles airport".

Aside from the logical confusion in that statement between causation and correlation: if the people back home don't get the connection, it's because it's never been explained properly. As far as I can tell, it doesn't matter how many troops you pour into Iraq - it's not like you're maintaining a physical barrier against a fortified position. If terrorists wants to hit LAX, they don't have to fight their way through a wall of American troops on the way to the travel agent. They'll book a ticket to LAX. Terrorist with sufficient resources and a well-defined program are not going to spend their time burying explosives on the road to Sadr City. They'll get on a plane and land at LAX. Visit Disneyland, have a drink at the Viper Room, take a photo of Drew Carey. Then their plan begins to unreel. As one distracts Drew Carey with an autograph, the other sneaks up and straps an IED to Carey's back and sneaks away on tiptoes. Carey spots IED in a classic double-take, looks up, sound of slide whistle and BOOM. Charred star, muted trumpet plays, and then it's on to a series of 30-second vignettes involving Drew Carey's hapless attempts at revenge. The terrorists make him run off a cliff, hit him with giant mallets, drop a piano on his head, cleverly disguise a brick wall as an alleyway - into which Carey runs smack. Eventually Carey gives up and the terrorists destroy vital infrastructure. They tip California into the ocean with a giant crowbar, and once everyone from Bakersfield to Sacramento is treading water, they do their terrorist dance to some tinny Turkish pop music. On cue, French people run up and start dancing in approval. And that's all, folks.

I can't say for certain that this will be the shape of the next assault on America, but really, if you've read the pundits of thunder and Islamo-fear, then my scenario is as good as any other.