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    The Commish

    Well, the Iraqi insurgents who have been offering to demonstrate the superiority of their way of life to ours by burning to death the three Japanese hostages they snagged six days ago have taken four Italians (assuming all the culprits are in the same or related groups). I hope they’re all safe (the hostages, I mean). Koizumi and his Foreign Ministry appointees have been accused up down and sideways of kissing American ass, but when they talk about how we can’t back down in the face of threats, they sure say it with conviction.

    I’m not sure why I’m watching Louis Freeh testify before the 9/11 Commission. Probably mostly because he’s cute. With the sound off, you can just read the two-line caption that summarizes what he’s saying. Let’s see: need for restructuring, limitations on preventive measures imposed by lack of resources, and a call for better staff guidelines. There’s a shocker: anyone who’s been in a supervisory position in an organization larger than Mabel’s Corner Bakery has used that routine to explain why Things Didn’t Get Done. I include myself. And a lot of times it’s even true. But these hearings aren’t about getting at truth. They’re about demonstrating to America that things are being taken seriously by Washington in the best way it knows how, namely by coopting several hours of live television so that higher-ups in the government can look worried and ask grave questions. You can’t really complain–they’re only filling a psychological need that the public clearly has. But as a citizen who takes at least eight long-haul flights into and out of major US cities per year, I’d rather see someone explain why security at airports right now is still so flipping farcical. I’d even watch with the sound on.

    2 Responses to “The Commish”

    1. Nathan says:

      Sean! You started a blog! It’s about time. I’m adding you to my blogroll.
      I simply like the way you think and speak.

    2. Sean says:

      Thanks, Nathan. I suspect I might have been better off staying at Dean and Rosemary’s, where sheer shame about horking too much of someone else’s real estate kind of forced me to be pithier than usual. But we try our best.
      And man, the professor who wrote on one of my sophomore year papers, “A definite predilection for the use of parentheticals is visible here,” was not joking.