There's an interesting article in the Washington Post today -- about a guy in South Korea who set a fire or fires that led to the incineration and destruction of a cherished national monument, which seemed horrifyingly tragic and yet all too simple at once:
SEOUL, Feb. 13 -- To appreciate the fury that has gripped South Korea since Sunday, imagine this:
The Alamo (or Independence Hall or the Old North Church) is set afire. There is live prime-time coverage on national television. Firefighters rush to the scene but dither for more than an hour before spraying any water. As the irreplaceable goes up in smoke, firemen argue jurisdictional niceties with government preservationists.
Police nab the perpetrator before the ashes are cold. He is a 69-year-old man with a record of arson. He admits setting the fire, telling police that the landmark was "easy to approach and poorly guarded." --Washington Post, 2/14
Now, I hesitate to draw a political analogy when such a venerated historical symbol has been so cavalierly destroyed for no apparent reason (and I hope this isn't an utterly offensive analogy), but when I saw the line about the cops catching the guy who did it -- a guy with a record of arson, to boot -- and he said, in effect, "It's not my fault nobody stopped me from destroying it," it made me think of another smug, unrepentant, destructive, and even indignant character, who's blithely assaulted another national symbol, for sport at best, and at worst for his own lust for fame and power, no matter what sort.
Because the Constitution was easy to approach.
And poorly guarded.