I do not worry about libertinism. I worry about libertines who think the greatest threat to the imminent Utopia is a Wal-Mart exec who refuses to stock a CD because the lyrics celebrate shooting cops in the head, or who think that uptight repressed Christers are six inches and five days away from replacing the Constitution with the plot of “A Handmaiden’s Tale.” The people who make a religion of environmentalism (I read “State of Fear” over the vacation break, and I can see why it horrified so many; it simply wasn’t helpful. While I don’t doubt that Crichton votes Dem – I just have a feeling – it was cruel & delightful fun to read a novel where George Soros Sees The Light, and Ted Danson is eaten by cannibals), the people who consider themselves enlightened but believe all sorts of pseudo-scientific nonsense (no pesticides for us! We only eat vegetables nutured by donkey offal), the people who regard the entire modern world as a giant horrid Cancer Machine designed by callous top-hatted industrialists. My father is 80 years old, healthy as an ox, Zorba-strong, and he’s been breathing petroleum fumes since 1952. They see threats and perils everywhere except where there are, you know, threats and perils.

If the Islamists were Christians, they’d be motivated. That threat they understand, because that threat sounds like Mom and Dad, and they would dimly comprehend that the threat to their liberties – their civilization, for that matter – is sorta like grounding and loss of TV privileges.