http://www.salon.com/ent/feature/2005/05/16/24/index.html (need to do their day pass thing to read).
Here are some samples:
Here are some samples:
What if the terrorists got their hands on the "nuclear football"?
By the time they did, it would be useless. On a day of spectacular attacks -- from the kidnapping and show trial of Defense Secretary James Heller to the meltdown of a San Gabriel nuclear reactor (there isn't one, in case you were wondering) -- by far the most traumatic is the airborne destruction of Air Force One. While incapacitating the president of the United States obviously has its utility if you're a terrorist, for Marwan it's merely a fringe benefit. What he's really after is the nuclear football, the briefcase containing the attack options and authorization codes for the nation's nuclear arsenal that never leaves the president's side. Blowing up Air Force One while the president is onboard and recovering the football from the smoldering wreckage just seemed the easiest path from point A to point B.
Could the nation's nuclear facilities be subject to a terrorist-induced meltdown?
Nope. If "24's" producers intended to irritate the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, they succeeded. The show's drama kicks off with Marwan's agents stealing a device called the Override, the creation of a defense contractor that adds an external safeguard preventing a civilian nuclear reactor from melting down. According to "24," the Override can also induce a meltdown if a savvy hacker can successfully launch a cyberattack on reactor security. Once accomplished, the Override can actually get control of all nuclear plants in the U.S., creating an environmental disaster so intense that the country will be brought to its knees.
In response to a deluge of worried phone calls after the episode aired, the NRC released a calm-down statement throwing cold water on the idea that any device "could remotely operate all 104 U.S. nuclear power plants via the Internet." And that's because "there is no central nervous system that controls all the nation's nuclear power plants," Cressey explains. "It just doesn't work that way." Unfortunately for the NRC, as the show progressed, the (fictitious) San Gabriel reactor melted down, causing mass (television) chaos and prompting a gigantic (imaginary) evacuation. NRC released another statement: "Nuclear power plants in the United States have redundant safety systems and several very robust physical barriers as well as well-established emergency plans that help ensure people living near these plants are kept safe." When I called for an elaboration, a very polite spokeswoman, Sue Gagner, made it clear that the NRC prefers to put the "dramatic fiction" of "24" behind it.
Could a bleeding heart civil-liberties lawyer and an uppity judge stop a terrorism interrogation in progress?
Not even if this was the United States of Sweden.
There are a lot of implausible scenarios in "24." The idea of a judge stopping an interrogation in progress might be the most outlandish yet. "The chances a judge would step in seem relatively low, if not impossible," says Kayyem. It's tremendously difficult to determine what's legal in the world of "24," but if the Amnesty Global lawyer pressed his case to the judge based on the prospect of Prado's imminent torture, even to the most flagrantly liberal activist judge on the bench, he would have a high evidentiary bar to clear. "You can't just walk into court and make the accusation of torture and spring the guy," says the ACLU's Emily Whitfield, another "24" addict. "The judge will say, 'What's the basis?'" And, of course, the basis is -- well, an anonymous tip from a terrorist, which wouldn't get Prado out of CTU even if a pinko attorney had on hand a stack of circumstantial evidence suggesting that abuse occurs in terrorism detentions. Then there's the small matter of the political climate. Whichever judge issues an order to stop the interrogation of a terror suspect while the United States is under attack had better be prepared for an angry mob led by Sen. John Cornyn to rip him from limb to limb.