The US Department of Defense is sponsoring an essay contest to honor the Saudi King. Here is mine:
It is sad that you died of natural causes. I had an appointment in the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. It was cancelled at the last minute. If only you could have been there in my place. How much you could have learned. Or perhaps you could have been a passenger in one of the planes that hit it. No doubt you would have had a first class seat, right at the front of the plane. After all, great men like you don’t sit with the college kids and nursing mothers in the back. What joy you would have had, seeing New York from the air, at closer range than any has ever had, or at least had since Solomon Andrews buzzed 5th Avenue in a gliding balloon in 1866. Then you could have been among the first to enter the building, and gone out in a flash as you experienced the true glory of the cult you had done so much to promote.
Just think, if you had been on that plane, you might have displaced a standby passenger, who did not deserve to be on it, as you so richly did.
But I understand that you may have had other engagements. Perhaps you were at home, whipping one of your approximately 35 wives (your laws prescribe a limit of 4, but laws, like terrorist suicide bombings and beheadings, are for the little people). Or perhaps you were in Kabul, in the soccer stadium, honoring the crowd, as you shared the joy of the event as together you cheered the sequential execution of terrified women, heads blown out from behind, one after the other, for the crime of teaching girls to read. Clearly you had a right to be there, as it was you that paid for the education of the fans.
And now you have gone to the other world, where we are all equal. I appreciate the indignity you must be suffering as a result. There you are, together with the women in the stadium, the economy class passengers, the secretaries and mail room boys dispatched from their 84th story offices, and the NYPD cops who died trying to rescue them. None of these people appreciate you, at least not the way your would-be peers from around the world, weeping sincerely at the side of your casket evidently do.
Perhaps you can take up the matter with the King. I’m sure he will set things right.
— Robert Zubrin is president of Pioneer Energy, a senior fellow with the Center for Security Policy, and the author of Energy Victory. The paperback edition of his latest book, Merchants of Despair: Radical Environmentalists, Criminal Pseudo-Scientists, and the Fatal Cult of Antihumanism, was recently published by Encounter Books.
When Barack Obama arrived at the White House in January 2009, he was greeted warmly by outgoing president George W. Bush. After taking the newcomer on a brief tour, Bush said, “well its looks like it’s time for me to go. But I want you to know, Barack, that while our politics may differ, as a fellow president, my thoughts and prayers will always be with you. So here’s a special gift from me to help you get through the hard times that you surely will have to face.”
Handing Obama two sealed letters, the Texan continued. “Here are two letters. When you find yourself in a heck of a political mess, and you need a way out, open the first letter. But when the situation is completely hopeless, open the second letter.”
With that, Bush parted and Obama took up the presidency. At first, all seemed to go well, as the Democrats strong majorities in congress allowed major legislation, including the $800 billion stimulus bill to be quickly passed into law. Unfortunately however, the economy continued to decline, and as the stock market hit 6400 in March 2009, the new president found himself beset by critics on all sides.
So he decided to open the first letter. It read: “Blame everything on me.”
Instantly perceiving its immense value, Obama adopted this sage advice with alacrity, and soon was back in control. Indeed, even though the economy failed to recover, with tens of millions of Americans kept unemployed month after month, year after year, his poll numbers remained acceptable. But then came the first debate with Romney, where he was trounced so badly that even the most dedicated of his own supporters could only scream with derision. With only three weeks to go until election day, Gallup put him behind by 6 points, and after two follow up debates failed to change anything, the situation appeared dire indeed.
Fortunately, however, the president knew exactly what to do. Reaching for the second of Bush’s gifts, he opened the envelope.
Inside was a message. It read; “Write two letters.”
Paul Ryan came and spoke today in Lakewood, Colorado, very near my home. The high school gym was packed, with over 3000 present. Most of the folks there were local, but one couple seated next to me was from Durango and had driven six hours to get there.
To say the crowd received Ryan with enthusiasm would be an understatement. In fact, his reception became literally thunderous, as many started stamping or pounding on the gym benches, and they repeated this several times when Ryan made strong points.