[OCREGISTER] Way back in January, when it emerged that Beyoncé had treated us to the first-ever lip-synched national anthem at a presidential inauguration, I suggested in this space that this strange pseudo-performance embodied the decay of America's political institutions from the real thing into mere simulacrum. But that applies to government "crises," too -- such as the Obamacare "rollout," the debt "ceiling," and the federal "shutdown," to name only the three current railroad tracks to which the virtuous damsel of Big Government has been simultaneously tied by evil mustache-twirling Republicans.This week's "shutdown" of government, for example, suffers (at least for those of us curious to see it reduced to Somali levels) from the awkward fact that the overwhelming majority of the government is not shut down at all. Indeed, much of it cannot be shut down. Which is the real problem facing America. "Mandatory spending" (Social Security, Medicare, et al) is authorized in perpetuity -- or, at any rate, until total societal collapse. If you throw in the interest payments on the debt, that means two-thirds of the federal budget is beyond the control of Congress's so-called federal budget process. That's why you're reading government "shutdown" stories about the Panda Cam at the Washington Zoo and the first lady's ghost-Tweeters being furloughed.
Nevertheless, just because it's a phony crisis doesn't mean it can't be made even phonier. The perfect symbol of the shutdown-simulacrum so far has been the World War II Memorial. This is an open-air facility on the National Mall -- that's to say, an area of grass with a monument at the center. By comparison with, say, the IRS, the National Parks Service is not usually one of the more controversial government agencies. But, come "shutdown," they're reborn as the shock troops of the punitive bureaucracy. Thus, they decided to close down an unfenced open-air site -- which, oddly enough, requires more personnel to shut than it would to keep it open.
So the Parks Service dispatched their own vast army to the World War II Memorial to ring it with barricades and yellow "Police Line -- Do Not Cross" tape strung out like the world's longest "We Support Our Troops" ribbon. For good measure, they issued a warning that anybody crossing the yellow line would be liable to arrest -- or presumably, in extreme circumstances, the same multibullet ventilation that that mentally ill woman from Connecticut wound up getting from the coppers. In a heartening sign that the American spirit is not entirely dead, at least among a small percentage of nonagenarians, a visiting party of veterans pushed through the barricades and went to honor their fallen comrades, mordantly noting for news hounds that, after all, when they'd shown up on the beach at Normandy, it, too, had not been officially open.
One would not be altogether surprised to find the feds stringing yellow police tape along the Rio Grande, the 49th Parallel and the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, if only to keep Americans in, rather than anybody else out. Still, I would like to have been privy to the high-level discussions at which the government took the decision to install its Barrycades on open parkland. For anyone with a modicum of self-respect, it's difficult to imagine how even the twerpiest of twerp bureaucrats would consent to stand at a crowd barrier and tell a group of elderly soldiers who've flown in from across the country that they're forbidden to walk across a piece of grass and pay their respects. Yet, if any National Parks Service employee retained enough sense of his own humanity to balk at these instructions or other spiteful, petty closures of semiwilderness fishing holes and the like, we've yet to hear about it.