Great God almighty, what the hell is wrong with Michael Ledeen? For some time now, he’s been ending almost every essay at National Review with the phrase “Faster, please.” It’s like a porn spammer’s version of “Carthago Delenda Est,” and from a guy whose e-mail address is Benito12, that’s a bit disturbing. Ten bucks says there’s a copy of Ilsa, She-Wolf of the SS somewhere in Ledeen’s home.