There's breaking news on the Bambi front.
As the RFT went to press, it was unclear whether the suburban war zone known as Town & Country was planning to take out 600 enemy deer or just 100, as troops prepared for the winter offensive.
The Town & County Joint Chiefs of Staff (a.k.a. the City Council) met Monday to determine just how dramatically it would reject the enemy within -- the 72 percent of residents who have somehow aligned themselves with the pacifist, communist-sympathizing, deer-hugger junta -- and with images of Washington, MacArthur, Patton and Heston dancing in their heads, they solemnly voted their Articles of War.
Well, almost. After sending home about 100 residents to guard their menaced manses, the Joint Chiefs revisited the question of just how many enemy deer to kill, vs. how many to deport as prisoners of war, in the ongoing conflict that some say will ultimately determine the safety of every petunia in the entire land of Town & Country.
Even in times of grave danger to town security, can the Joint Chiefs reverse themselves behind closed doors? Ours is a nation of ordinances, after all, so for now, the fate of the enemy deer has been tossed at the silk-stockinged feet of the War Room lawyers.
Thanks for that report, Wolf Blitzer. Now get yourself to safety.
Just in case you haven't followed the Bambi Gulf War, it comes down to this: The City Fathers say Mother Nature has just gone too far.
What once was wooded paradise -- where residents could view beautiful deer at a comforting distance from the windows of their stately mansions -- has now become hideous reality. One by one, the enemy have become emboldened, ravaging gardens and even crossing roadways without regard to traffic signals (or, for that matter, traffic).
Reports of terrorist attacks by the enemy deer have spread panic throughout the village. There are grisly stories of perennials ripped from their flowerbeds, of vegetation destroyed in cold pollen without regard for the sanctity of vegetable life.
In perhaps the most gut-wrenching tale of all, residents whisper about the enemy deer that crashed through one terrified family's kitchen window, denting the refrigerator and bleeding enemy blood all over the house.
Is it any wonder that the Joint Chiefs have met to declare war on the enemy deer, with hard-line Gen. Mike Ruben proposing a plan to kill -- ahem, "harvest and disseminate" -- some 600 of the town's 800-plus deer population -- over the next three years? When you spend a million or more on your house, that garden is your Kuwait.
No wonder international experts are likening the situation in Town & Country to that of the Middle East and, in particular, to the situation in Israel. These rich people and those deer are like Israelis and Palestinians, living side by side but never trusting, never lowering their guard.
Sure, neither the town's 4,000-or-so residents nor its 800-or-so deer are struggling for food, but how much of that is due to terrorist deer encroachments on the sacred garden grounds? The deer would argue, were they given a place at the assembly, that they were here first and that the mansions represent nothing more than illegal settlements.
In the middle are the pacifists, despised as sissies by the hard-liners but distrusted also by the deer. When the Joint Chiefs first pondered declaring war on the deer, a survey was issued to determine whether the Town & Country public supported the war or wanted the conflict resolved by diplomacy.
In most democracies, the issue would have been laid to rest when a stunning 72 percent of the population voted for peace in the form of a "nonlethal" solution. It was determined that wildlife experts could trap the deer without harming them and transport them to the several rural landowners who expressed a willingness to receive the prisoners.
This plan would have been subject to the approval of the Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC) -- a local U.N. Security Council, if you will -- and initially the MDC demurred, out of a longstanding belief that murdering a deer is more humane than busing one -- but the department now says it's open to discussing "translocation" of enemy deer prisoners.
There are legitimate concerns that deer will suffer or die during transportation or at the hands of hunters once they've relocated to rural areas -- a view hotly disputed by the fellow who wants to hire on as their chauffeur out of Town & Country -- but, from the deer's perspective, it would seem those risks might be reasonably worth taking when the alternative is certain death through euthanasia.
Only some Dr. Kevorkian deer would favor Gen. Ruben's plan to destroy most of Town & Country's deer population, and only a very naive person would buy his (and other hawks') rationalization that this is all about the higher purpose of killing the deer to feed the hungry in St. Louis.
The Joint Chiefs produced area food-bank representatives Monday to testify that, sure, they'd love tons of free, protein-rich venison to give out to the hungry. Why not? Hey throw in some dogs, cats and hamsters while you're at it (they didn't say that, actually).
But if this community whose median household income eclipsed the $100,000 mark in the 1990 census is so compassionate about the hungry, why not just donate the $100-plus per deer that would be saved by translocation over extermination? And, for that matter, why did it take a terrorist-deer crisis to make area hunger such a priority?
No, this war in Town & Country isn't about being compassionate, neither to the hungry nor to the enemy deer. This is about preserving a way of life, where comfort against the backdrop of simulated wilderness must not be disturbed by the intrusions of real-life animals.
It's a great topic to discuss over your Thanksgiving venison.
War is hell.