Cheering tidbits lighten otherwise grim week
Mark Steyn’s article in the Sun Times is a must read. He contrasts the media’s response to Dick Cheney’s hunting accident with their censorship of a cartoon that has caused death and destruction around the world.
In an otherwise grim week — at least on unimportant peripheral matters like Iranian nukes — three things cheered me up. The first was the decision of Iran’s bakers to rename Danish pastries “Roses of the Prophet Muhammed pastries.” Has a ring to it, don’t you think? If they’re looking for a slogan, how about “Iranian pastry: There’s nothing flakier. Except our president.”
The second cheery sight was the destruction of a McDonald’s in Lahore by the usual excitable young lads from the religion of pieces. Apparently the lively Pakistanis had burned every single Danish target in the city — one early Victor Borge LP left behind by the last British governor — and had been obliged to diversify. So they dragged Ronald McDonald out of the joint, torched him in the street and danced around his flaming remains shouting “Death to America! Death to Britain! Death to Tony Blair!”
I’m not sure I even get that. Ronald and Tony seem kind of similar from a distance but even on the all-infidels-look-alike-to-me-especially-when-they’re-alight thesis you’d think they weren’t that easily confused.
The third jolly event of the week was those other excitable fellows — the Big Media White House reporters — jumping up and down shouting “Death to Dick Cheney!” NBC’s David Gregory, the George Clooney of the press corps, was yelling truth to power about why the Elmer-Fudd-in-gun-rampage story was released to “a local Corpus Christi newspaper, not the White House press corps at large.” I know how he feels. I remember, like, four or five years ago — early September, maybe second week — there was this building collapse in New York and I had to learn about it from the TV because this notoriously secretive paranoid administration couldn’t even e-mail me a timely press release. For an NBC guy discovering that some hicksville nowhere-burg one-stop-light feed-price sheet got tipped off before he did is like a dowager duchess turning up at the royal banquet to discover the scullery maid’s been seated next to the queen.
So anyway David Gregory’s going bananas and yelling “I will yell!” and “Don’t be a jerk!” at the White House press secretary, and there’s more smoke coming out of his ears than from Ronald McDonald in Lahore, and I’m thinking, you know, maybe Karl’s latest range of Rovebots that he planted in American media corporations are just a wee bit too parodically self-absorbed to be plausible. And then this lady pipes up and asks, “Would this be much more serious if the man had died?”
Well, maybe. And maybe it would be even ever so much more serious still if, after peppering him with birdshot, Cheney had dragged him into a safe house in the Sunni Triangle and decapitated him with a rusty scimitar while shouting “Allahu Ahkbar!” and then sold the video to al-Jazeera.
Read it all. It gets even funnier.

