Several of them were in it for the wrong reasons, and you can just imagine what I mean by that.
But in any group of people set up to do good things, you will always find a few participants for whom seeming to be doing a good thing makes an excellent cover for what they're really up to.
Which brings us to the three butteheads from Utah who went to the Goblin Valley State Park and toppled rock formations that had stood for 200 million years, until they showed up. Think about it. These rocks had stood unmolested through wars, American westward expansion, and the popularity of Madonna, and then along came David Hall, Glenn Taylor and his son, and boom! Down went the rocks, along with a little more of our national intelligence.
|Me smart. Me destroy nature.|
Their claim of preventing a tragedy by moving precariously-placed boulders holds about as much truth as a Rand Paul campaign speech, but these louts, these clodhoppers, are standing behind the Boy Scout uniform, saying that, “Some little kid was about to walk down here and die, and Glenn saved his life by getting the boulder out of the way.”
By the same logic, I once averted a bank holdup by not going into a bank and asking for a lot of money in a takeout bag, and only my quick thinking prevented a fire at the gas station the other day when I cleverly failed to shove a lighted flare into my gas tank.
The gleeful idiocy with which they topple the rock and then dance about merrily makes me shake my head, fearing for the future of a country in which knuckleheaded galoots are advisors to young people. And now, deducing that this crime might result in his loss of his cherished green uniform and Smokey Bear hat, Taylor laments, “I wish we would have been smart enough to go get a ranger, ‘cause it was wrong of us to be vigilantes, and I’m sorry I did that. If you’re a felon, you can’t be a Scouter and that would break my heart. But I did the crime.”
And I hope he also does the time.