With My Spear and Magic Helmet...

The above is the answer that Missouri-based magician Marty Hahne should give in response to a request from agents of the United States Department of Agriculture Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service that he provide a detailed written response as to how he intends to care for and protect the rabbit he uses in his act, should a disaster strike. They sent him an 8-page letter asking for his written plan by the end of July and assurances that he and his wife would be trained in plan implementation by the end of September.

The USDAAPHIS has previously dealt with Mr. Hahne's scofflaw attitude towards the care and upkeep of his rabbit, and I made fun of them here (Note: The link in that story no longer works. The same article, along with the woes of several other magicians who are under the watchful gaze of the never-sleeping USDAAPHIS can be found here).

Now, there are certainly many companies and organizations that use more than one animal in the course of their business. Not all of them could handle the needs of their animals in as uncomplicated a manner as could Mr. Hahne. Should a tornado strike a zoo, then the resulting needs would be far more complex and really, far too complex to just wing it -- which, coincidentally, is the strategic disaster response plan for any avian zoo residents should the disaster damage their enclosures. We would not want them to say they would just shrug their shoulders and eat the loss -- which, coincidentally, is the strategic disaster response plan for a number of the zoo's carnivorous megafauna should the disaster damage their enclosures. So it is not entirely ridiculous that the USDAAPHIS requires some of these agencies to have a plan in place.

But it is utterly ridiculous that they require this of a magician with a rabbit. Yes, to be sure the existence of this regulation and the fact that there are people who will take their enforcement of it in Mr. Hahne's case seriously does answer an important question about the reason for government: It  provides jobs for people who could in no circumstances find gainful employment in any system that depends on workers having and displaying merit, initiative or functioning cerebrums.

And there is a step beyond ridiculous, if you like, which is worth considering. As a part of our system of the rule of law, the citizens of our nation have delegated to federal, state, municipal and some other governments a legal monopoly on the use of force in most instances not involving self-defense. This means our laws are ultimately backed up with what P.J. O'Rourke calls the "gun to mom's head" factor: If mom disobeys a law, she will eventually be confronted by agents of the state who may use force against her if she resists and deadly force if they determine her level of resistance endangers themselves or bystanders. If they are wrong on that last point they will say they're sorry, but that's not much comfort come the second Sunday in May when everybody but you is buying a card.

So, does the disaster plan for a magician and a rabbit meet the gun to mom's head test? If you believe it does, stop reading me and seek professional help. Of course it doesn't. This is all silly, you say. Governments or their agents may be stupid and make mistakes, but in contexts that provide ample opportunity for restitution and remediation. Under no circumstances would federal agents confront an ordinary citizen over a matter this trivial with the threat of deadly force; the gun to mom's head test is irrelevant. But so is the threatening mom with a fine test or the wasting eight pages of government paper test or the paying some oxygen sponge real money to handle this matter test.

And when you read how a 20-year-old college sophomore spent the night in jail because a team of six agents from the Virginia Alcoholic Beverage Control department thought the bottled water she bought was actually beer, and how her panicked response endangered agents as well as herself and two friends because the Virginia ABC figured six armed (but not overly bright) agents were needed to ask three sorority girls about bottled water, cookie dough and ice cream, you might have to re-think whether or not someone someday is going to pay a very high price for the fact that the legal monopoly on force is being used to make sure magicians who do tricks in front of kids have a government-approved plan for care for their rabbit in the event of a disaster.

It's a shame that the magic tricks are all illusions. Mr. Hahne could do us all a world of good if he could only make the nonexistent brains of federal bureaucrats re-appear from the sunshine-less environs in which they have been inserted.