The driver of a small car deliberately plowed into bystanders during a Queen's Day parade in the Netherlands today, in an apparent assault on the royal family who were traveling in an open-topped bus. The murderous motorist, one Karst (K.R.) Tates, ended up bloodied, dazed and trapped in his black Suzuki Swift when he violently collided with a stone obelisk, some ten yards from the royal coach. Five people were killed. A dozen more sustained serious injuries.
I've been following the news and speculation about the whos and whys of the attack much of the day. Currently, based on what I've learned, it seems the horrible incident is the work of a white man in his late thirties — Mr. Tates is not thought to be affiliated with an Islamic terror group — who lost his security job a while back and was about to be evicted from his home. (It might or might not be relevant that many such evictions are formally announced as taking place "In naam der Koningin," which means in the name of — or on behalf of — the queen.)
Probably the single most idiotic piece of conjecture I've seen all day came from Slate's foreign editor, June Thomas, who freely opined that the attack may have been a targeted strike against gay people like her. Yes, when mass murder happens in a foreign country 5,000 miles away, it's all about Ms. Thomas and whom she likes to bed, apparently:
Isn't it a sight to behold how eagerly some people will turn anything into a claim of victimhood?
By the way, I've lived through 25-plus Queen's Days in the Netherlands, and I don't know why anyone would construe it as the gay-fest par excellence. To me, it's a pretty funny, almost unintentional celebration of capitalism; a million people drag all their useless crap out of their basements and attics, and turn the country into a huge flea market for a day.
I have to say that I was also annoyed as all-get-out by a smattering of comments about how awful Tates' savagery was for the royal family. The blue-blooded twits got away scot-free, not a scratch. It's beyond me why people's tearful sympathies would go out to these dysfunctional if highly lucky millionaires and billionaires, while neglecting to say even a cursory word about the actual casualties and their families.
On another note, I've watched several videos and dozens of photographs of the attack and came away perplexed by the lack of action of the police officers and the royals' security detail in the crime's immediate aftermath. That, too, is a sight to behold. The cops, who'd already let the assailant crash through two steel barriers without taking him out or slowing him down, are seen running around like chickens with their heads cut off. There's nothing purposeful about their actions, and no one seems to be in charge. And on the open-topped bus that carried the royals, the Dutch equivalent of the Secret Service failed to do anything at all, even when the successor to the throne, crown prince Willem Alexander, displayed his usual wits by standing up to get a better look at the carnage. If he didn't understand that that was the dumbest possible thing to do under the circumstances — despite the repeated drills he must have undergone — then his professional protectors should have, and they ought to have wrestled him to the floor and covered him without a moment's hesitation.
Oh well. All of that's par for the course, I suppose, in a soft-bellied country whose marines arrest homicidal Somali pirates only to release them out of the goodness of their hearts, and where police officers break down crying and hugging when Theo van Gogh's killer addresses them in the courtroom [link in Dutch].
Finally, on the topic of cars and unhinged losers (I'm referring to Karst Tates), it was perhaps a bit ironic that Dutch Elsevier magazine broke the news yesterday [link in Dutch] that at least five Dutch cabinet members expressed dissatisfaction with the Audi A6 sedans they received as their government-issued vehicles. So naturally the poor sods went to their respective physicians to ask for a written medical statement declaring their backs and joints too delicate for the A6 model, a luxury car that goes for roughly 50,000 euros (66,000 dollars). The doctors complied, and all five of the tender-bodied politicians were then promptly provided with an Audi A8, at a cost to taxpayers of about 90,000 euros (119,000 dollars) per vehicle.
It's almost enough to get into your Suzuki Swift and ram the corrupt fuckers in high places who, despite their lip service to the holy Dutch cow of equality, just love to flip the bird at the insignificant little burghers who finance their fancy tastes.
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