July 16, 2024
Be Afraid, Be Very Afraid
Lost in the recent assassination attempt of former President Trump is a sober warning that America might fall. And soon.
And we’re not talking about civil war or politics, but war war. You know…the real thing.
I know what you’re thinking. That’s crazy talk. It’s insane. It’s like saying that my mother-in-law is a great driver or some such kooky thing. But stay with me. I’ll prove it. Ready?
Mike Tyson.
Seriously.
Back in late 1989 as autumn gave way to winter, Mike Tyson was considered to be quite literally unbeatable. He’d just demolished yet another hapless victim, Carl “the Truth” Williams in little over a minute with a single left hook back in July. The “truth” about Williams, it turned out, was that his chin was no match for Tyson’s left hook. Oh well…no one complained about paying good money (the pay-per-view was $24.99 for crying out loud!) to see a mere minute-and-a-half demolition.
It was Tyson! That’s what he did.
The question was never if he could be beat by that point – we’d stopped asking that question after he obliterated the evidently terrified Michael Spinks in, yep, you guessed it…a minute-and-a-half back in 1988. (The guy paid to work the bell at Tyson fights was the most overpaid dude in the history of overpaid dudes.) The only relevant question asked by sane adults was how long a guy might last and not whether Tyson could be vanquished. To suggest such was the stuff that relegated a man to the trash bin of polite society. It was like saying, “I think there are aliens living in my toaster…” or “I bought a timeshare in Siberia.”
Yeah, crazy stuff. No one would take you seriously after such fatuity.
Ah, but there were warning signs that something was wrong with the Emperor. And here’s where we should pay attention.
There were reports and rumors that Tyson wasn’t training seriously. There were sightings of him out and about, in this club or that, and certainly not training. If chasing models and drinking was a sport, he was in shape for that, sure, but his patented peek-a-boo style seemed to be accumulating cobwebs.
Nah. It doesn’t matter, we thought. He’s still too good for any modern heavyweight. No worries.
Then ESPN showed a video of Iron Mike looking, well, not so iron. A sparring partner, Greg Page, appeared to, gasp, drop him. We all watched the grainy video. And we all said the same thing: he slipped. No biggie. He’s fine. He’s still Tyson, after all.
Well, then, fast forward to that fateful night in February of 1990 and a guy named Buster.
The King had fallen. Badly. The image of Tyson groping around on the canvas looking for his mouthpiece when he should have been getting to his feet, and then putting it in his mouth sideways, was unthinkable. And then it happened. Tyson. KO’d. By Buster Douglas.
Well, the signs of decay upon that other great and indestructible force, America and her military, are all around too, just like they were with Tyson. Unless you’re old enough to remember the Soviet Union, you probably haven’t ever lived a day in the world where you seriously feared that America could lose a war. I grew up in the 80’s. The movie Red Dawn wasn’t considered fantasy but an actual possibility. The movie (and I’m talking the original…the good one with Patrick Swayze) followed a group of high school students (Wolverines!) who flee to the mountains and wage a guerrilla war against the invading Soviet army that had taken over the American west coast.
Yeah. Imagine that.
Anyway, watching a skinny, disaffected 20 year-old with no ninja skills, and certainly he was no John Wick, somehow outsmart the world’s finest security service, that being the U.S. Secret Service, and take a pristine rooftop position in which to shoot a former president, is a grave warning. How did the world’s finest security force miss a dude with a rifle and a ladder? This isn’t Greg Page, an accomplished fighter in his own right by the way, knocking down Tyson in sparring. No. This is akin to the bucket boy or janitor knocking Tyson on his keister. It boggles the noodle.
But that’s not even the worst of it.
After the former president was shot, narrowly escaping with his life, his security detail failed to get him in a protective group hug designed to provide a human meat shield. You know, the whole “my life for yours” thing. Trump stood up and was, alas, still exposed! One intrepid agent was simply too short to shield him. The now epic photo of Trump’s defiant fist pump with the flag waving proudly above him in that resplendent blue sky would have been another thing altogether if instead of a camera the photographer had been another shooter.
Again, it boggles the noodle.
Oh, and what about the lady agent who couldn’t seem to find her holster when she tried to put her gun away? Was this amateur hour? She looked like a bad actor trying to play an agent on a low budget after-school-special movie (those were a thing in the 80’s, by the way).
So, while we all bicker about politics and rhetoric, I’m sitting here wondering what America’s enemies must be thinking. I’m wondering if that wide-open border that’s let in around 10 million people in the last three years hasn’t also invited some, you know, trained and determined fellows that don’t miss easy shots. I’m wondering if any of that $7.2 billion worth of military hardware we abandoned in Afghanistan is in the hands of bad guys who plan on using it here. I’m wondering if the same skill level I saw defending former President Trump would be on display defending the whole country.
You see, after Tyson did indeed fall to Douglas, all the evidence seemed as clear as day. All the late nights, partying, personal drama, and lack of discipline made Iron Mike merely Mike. And lots of people could beat that fella named Merely Mike. Iron Mike had been forged in the dimly lit and sweat soaked gym in Catskill, New York. Merely Mike had yes-men and obsequious know-nothings all around instead of steely-eyed boxing professors who respected their opponents and knew well how quickly things could go awry.
Watching the obvious cracks in America’s once vaunted institutions can and should only conjure up the obvious comparisons unless we have the proverbial bats in our belfry. The Secret Service quickly blamed the whole rooftop being open to the non-ninja loser on the local police. The local police replied that it was ultimately the Secret Service’s job. So much for accountability. Secretary Mayorkas said he has 100% confidence in Secret Service director Kim Cheatle, not, say, 95% or 90%. One wonders what it would take for him to not be confident in her. Maybe if his ear was blown off he’d think differently. Or maybe he’d just blame the local PD too. Who knows.
What we do know is that no one gets fired for not doing their job anymore because no one’s job is more important than they are. And that’s the problem of overconfidence in a nutshell. The local police chief in Butler county defended the officer that climbed up to see the shooter but climbed back down after he (the shooter) pointed his gun at him. The police chief’s philosophy is apparently, “whew…at least my officer wasn’t shot.”
Even though that’s kind of his job.
In a world where our military, secret service, and decision makers are out partying, so to speak, and not in the gym staying disciplined and accountable, there’s always a Buster Douglas around the corner.