Thumb-Sucking Puzzled

I watched with great interest all the backslapping on TV talk shows the other night about what a wonderful thing it is that European authorities have apprehended the notorious terrorist and Paris murderer of one hundred thirty Salah Abdeslam.

Or as they would say in the New York Times, Mr. Salah Abdeslam.

Terrorism “expert” after “expert” beside themselves over the bonanza of information we’re now going to receive about terrorist logistics and methods, training, organization and command and control.

Oh really! And just how are the Europeans going to obtain that information now that the American CIA is no longer able to stick Mr. Abdeslam’s head in a bucket of water for them?  Are they going to appeal to his better nature?  Withhold dessert from one of the three gourmet Halal meals they’ve obliged themselves to provide him (except during Ramadan of course when it’s a buffet after sundown?)  Let’s not be ridiculous, to even capture Abdeslam the European police had to get a law set aside which forbade them from raiding a terrorist’s apartment after nine o’clock at night.  And the European Criminal Justice system as a whole hasn’t even figured out how to deal with Islamic prisoners demanding equal conjugal rights for each and every one of the three extra wives the Koran allows them.

Indeed it’s worse than that – look at the photos of the tastefully furnished studio suite with its wide screen TV, catered meals and video game box the Norwegian government has mass murderer (77 kills 2011) Anders Behring Breivik resting in while he serves out the balance of his required ten years of incarceration.  Lots of luck learning about his logistics and methods, training, organization and command and control.  Lots of luck even getting Breivik to stop suing you over things like his isolation or the age of his Xbox.

As I mentioned in an earlier post I recently attended the Ceremony Of The Keys at the Tower Of London.  So I thought to look up the location inside the Tower complex of Little Ease. The famous, or shall we say infamous, ancient Tower Of London cell designed so that prisoners could not stand up or stretch out.  A horrible torture which often went on for days driving many of the men confined in it, insane.

But deciding to get it mapped out in case I ever visited the Tower again I looked it up on the Internet and found its location had been lost. The monstrous thing being walled up sometime in the last four hundred years nobody knows where.

A metaphor for where Europeans are now in any defense of their civilization. With all of their useful tools (some of which it must be admitted were a bit much) walled up nobody knows where.  Forgotten about.

And so are now faced with the exact same dilemma modern parents are who have forgone spanking. Thumb-sucking puzzled over what to do when their willful and dangerously disobedient child refuses to fess up.

Or stay in time out.