Apparently, there’s been a second assassination attempt on Donald Trump, this time while he was playing golf. I’m reminded of The Clicking of Cuthbert, the eponymous short story of a collection of stories by P.G. Wodehouse, in which a Russian writer, Vladimir Brusiloff, tells Cuthbert Banks the following story:
“It was one day I play at Nijni-Novgorod with the pro, against Lenin and Trotsky, and Trotsky had a two-inch putt for the hole. But, just as he addresses the ball, someone in the crowd he tries to assassinate Lenin with a rewolwer—you know that is our great national sport, trying to assassinate Lenin with rewolwers—and the bang puts Trotsky off his stroke and he goes five yards past the hole, and then Lenin, who is rather shaken, you understand, he misses again himself, and we win the hole and match and I clean up three hundred and ninety-six thousand roubles, or fifteen shillings in your money. Some gameovitch!”
I wonder if the gunfire which was the assassination attempt put Trump off either drive or putt. It is not mentioned anywhere how much he carded for the game. He showed that he profited from his meeting with Imran Khan by promptly saying that Biden and Kamala Harris were to blame. This time around, he wasn’t even wounded. To prove how brave he is to his followers, maybe he should have sent the ball soaring despite the gunfire.
Actually, the would-be assassin has shown that anybody playing golf is peculiarly vulnerable. Of course, anyone hanging around a golf course with a sniper rifle would probably lay himself open to questions. But then, he could probably hide the rifle in the club-bag.
When Wodehouse wrote about attempting to assassinate Lenin being the Soviet national sport, he didn’t imagine, I suppose, that it would become the American national sport, to get Trump. I would day the heat is on him now, for if he doesn’t become President, I wouldn’t give much for his chances of survival. I mean, if someone doesn’t pot him, he’s 78, so how much longer will he be around?
Another page he’s ripped out of Imran’s playbook is that he has made himself into the young people’s candidate. His going after Joe Biden saw him make way for Kamala Harris, but she is being viewed with suspicion as being 60. Imran, though 73, was going to bring his youth to bear, if he had been allowed to campaign.
Speaking of Imran brings to mind cricket, which is still the national sport of the UK, not assassinating anyone. It seemed that the national sport of running while the rain fell was going well, what with the decider of the England-Australia T20 series being washed out without a ball being bowled.
Probably more disappointing was the washout of the one-off Test between Afghanistan and New Zealand. It was only the eighth washout in 2549 Tests. Serve Afghanistan right for making a home in Noida, which is Delhi. It’s the monsoon season, so rain could have been safely predicted. Even our matches with Bangladesh were affected by the rain. I wonder who is the genius who thought of holding Tests during the monsoon. Sounds like something an MBA from an US University would dream up.
The Lebanon pager blasts definitely had a Mossad agent with an MBA from a US University behind it. Those Hezbollah guys who had attended the American Unversity Beirut were completely fooled. It seems that it was worse than all of those urban legends about mobile phones are true. I suspect that the jihadi organizations are probably wondering how they could replicate that particular attack. And the follow-up was the walkietalkies blowing up. Next thing you know credit cards in wallets will be blowing up. And you know where we keep wallets. Yes, the pants back pocket. Yes, think about it.
Meanwhile, the PTI was showing what it could do with technology. It not only increased the scope of Lahore’s rallies by holding its at the new Cattle Market Ground (I will refrain from any snide remarks about symbolism), but its keyboard warriors showed what to do when the administration turns off the lights: use your mobile’s light.
