I’m trying hard not to feel immense disappointment in the administration for reverting so feebly and so quickly to the flim-flam propagated by various Arab satrapies about the urgency of the Palestinian-Israeli issue. The only reason for the vice-president to be in the Middle East right now is to prepare the way for ending the chemical, nuclear and biological threat from Saddam Hussein’s Iraq. Period. The idea that yet another administration is going to try yet again to ‘solve’ an insoluble conflict, and to prove yet again that Palestinian terrorism works, is too dismaying for words. Worse, these other Arab dictators Cheney is now stroking are helping Saddam gain his coveted weapons by delaying our ability to stop him. In other words, it is quite possible that this administration is allowing the terrorist threat against this country to worsen and intensify. It has already lost the momentum from victory in Afghanistan. Now it looks as if it has lost its sense of clarity and direction altogether. Perhaps this round of negotiations is only designed to help smoothe the path for action against Iraq. That’s the public front anyway. And it’s the one hope that keeps me from panic. But it’s an increasingly thin reed on which to base any confidence in this administration’s recent actions in the Middle East. The notion that the Arab ‘street’ would rise up if we target Iraq before we appease the murderous thugs of the PLO has been heard time and time again and has always, always been revealed as a sham. So why on earth is the Bush administration, like Charlie Brown and the football, going to try and kick this one again? If terrorists strike while Bush diddles, if Iraq gains a nuclear and chemical capacity by the time we come around to strike, then president Bush will be held responsible, and should be held responsible, and he will not be forgiven. Please say it ain’t so, Dubya. Say it ain’t so.
HOLY GAFFES: Interesting column in the National Catholic Reporter on papal spokesman Navarro-Valls’ track record. His recent outburst against gay priests – celibate or not – is not the first time he’s goofed.
EPEHEBOPHILIA AT NATIONAL REVIEW: Well, not quite, and we are talking about legal sex. But ogling a 19 year-old’s breasts is just fine if you’re John Derbyshire. Just make sure they’re female breasts and Rod Dreher won’t be on your case:
The best reason to watch this latest version of The Time Machine is 19-year-old Zambian-Irish (no kidding) pop-tart Samantha Mumba, who is exceptionally easy on the eye. I am speaking of her physical attributes only; she can’t act. The long years in drama school – she started at age three – have left little trace, proving that talent is born, not made. Her accent lurches unpredictably from Dublin to South London to Los Angeles. I thought I detected a flicker of anxiety when she was about to be eaten by Morlocks, but her expression remains otherwise locked in a sort of vapid half-smile. She is, however, really good to look at. Her breasts are particularly fine.
About as fine as National Review’s double standards.
The Dish 