One reason why I was content not to cruise the blogs much today, or post myself, and may not tomorrow either: because it’s been a pretty damned good week already, one worth just sort of kicking back and savoring a bit. Ralph Peters counts the ways:
First, the death of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi forced the alleged “massacre” at Haditha off Page One, frustrating media attempts to manufacture a sequel to Abu Ghraib. Then, President Bush made a midnight ride to Baghdad to put one very important pair of boots on the ground. He didn’t hug the airport, either, but crossed the city to the Green Zone for a face-to-face with Iraq’s new prime minister. It was a brave and inspiring act. And a worthy one.
Strategically wise, good for Iraqi and American morale – and, yes, politically savvy – the president’s trip blew apart the media’s effort to recover from their loss of Zarqawi.
It also shut down their bid to refocus our attention on the suicides of three poor, deprived terrorists at Guantanamo – thugs we’re expected to mourn as victims of our inhumanity. Hate-America journalists just can’t get a break these days.
And they don’t deserve one, either. As much fun (and as important) as it is to keep right on kicking them when they’re down, on days like these I just feel like sitting back, staring out the window, and grinning at nothing at all. The mental image of some pissypants liberal Chicken Little sitting on his sofa and weeping on his little daughter’s shoulder, distraught and losing his composure over how the Big Bad Wolves are ruining the country, will do that to a guy now and then, y’know.