I'll let Dave Neiwirt over at Orcinus give you the answer. ;)
Follow the link there, it'll make your blood boil and that's healthy once in a while. ;)
R.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Winning ...
Couple years ago, when the Chimp was speaking of 'winning' the War on Terra, you could sorta stretch things, find some good going on. Afghanistan was slowly working itself back to at least the 17th Century as opposed to the 7th under the Taliban, and there was some good shit happening in Iraq.
The Chimp's justification, 'we're winning the War on Terra', could be seen as a glasss half full/empty thing. We hadn't been attacked here and you were seeing new schools being built in Iraq and roads being built and little girls going to school in Afghanistan.
Those of us out here who have a pretty good grip on reality since giving up hard drugs years ago warned we were shortchanging the effort in Afghanistan to focus instead on Iraq, what we at the time called a complete waste of good resources; highly trained and motivated troops and their equipment.
We were laughed at and called traitors; 'undermining the troops', they said. We were all 'traitors' and 'unAmerican'. Those of us who have served, who've sacrificed regardless if they'd seen combat or not, were called 'defeatists', though we knew, especially our Vietnam-era brothers and sisters, what would happen as a result of constant deployments, the use of our National Guard and Reserve force as regulars, and the crazy tempo of operations; quoting Billmon "Vietnam on crack". Veterans, whose service and experience were supposed to be respected, men and women who spoke eloquently of impending failure thanks to the wisdom gained on the battlefield, were disregarded and disrespected.
Not to say we told ya so, but ...
27 years ago, almost to the minute as I write this, my father dropped me off at the Air Force recruiter's office in Bay Shore on Long Island. It was the beginning of a journey for me that would take me all over the world and immerse me in many different cultures. Yes, I had to kill people (I've paid my penance for that thanks to 5 years of dealing with PTSD and all that comes with it) but what I took away from my military experience has benefitted me throughout my life.
I learned most people, regardless of race or religion are more alike than different. I learned that force and violence must be a last resort. I learned others have valid reasons for hating us and what we stand for, and they certainly don't hate us for our freedoms. They love us for that. I learned a lot of things which made 'Bush's Folly' seem all the more insane.
I knew failure was the only option, so did a lot of people. Iraq was a failure from the start and Afghanistan has been going downhill at an ever-increasing rate. The failure, those of us 'who've been there' warned about, is at hand. We barely have enough troops for the 'surge' in Iraq, stop loss and tour extensions accounting for most of them, extra troops for Afghanistan is pure fantasy; the reason the Chimp is pushing NATO to increase their commitment. Add that to the fact Osama bin Laden is still walking around loose. Talk about taking your eye off the ball.
Failure is imminent, our military is breaking, and we're rattling our saber toward Iran. It's time to get these insane warmongers out before they destroy us completely. We aren't winning anything.
The Chimp's justification, 'we're winning the War on Terra', could be seen as a glasss half full/empty thing. We hadn't been attacked here and you were seeing new schools being built in Iraq and roads being built and little girls going to school in Afghanistan.
Those of us out here who have a pretty good grip on reality since giving up hard drugs years ago warned we were shortchanging the effort in Afghanistan to focus instead on Iraq, what we at the time called a complete waste of good resources; highly trained and motivated troops and their equipment.
We were laughed at and called traitors; 'undermining the troops', they said. We were all 'traitors' and 'unAmerican'. Those of us who have served, who've sacrificed regardless if they'd seen combat or not, were called 'defeatists', though we knew, especially our Vietnam-era brothers and sisters, what would happen as a result of constant deployments, the use of our National Guard and Reserve force as regulars, and the crazy tempo of operations; quoting Billmon "Vietnam on crack". Veterans, whose service and experience were supposed to be respected, men and women who spoke eloquently of impending failure thanks to the wisdom gained on the battlefield, were disregarded and disrespected.
Not to say we told ya so, but ...
WASHINGTON, Feb. 18 - Senior leaders of Al Qaeda operating from Pakistan have re-established significant control over their once-battered worldwide terror network and over the past year have set up a band of training camps in the tribal regions near the Afghan border, according to American intelligence and counterterrorism officials.
American officials said there was mounting evidence that Osama bin Laden and his deputy, Ayman al-Zawahri, had been steadily building an operations hub in the mountainous Pakistani tribal area of North Waziristan. Until recently, the Bush administration had described Mr. bin Laden and Mr. Zawahri as detached from their followers and cut off from operational control of Al Qaeda.
The United States has also identified several new Qaeda compounds in North Waziristan, including one that officials said might be training operatives for strikes against targets beyond Afghanistan.
...
27 years ago, almost to the minute as I write this, my father dropped me off at the Air Force recruiter's office in Bay Shore on Long Island. It was the beginning of a journey for me that would take me all over the world and immerse me in many different cultures. Yes, I had to kill people (I've paid my penance for that thanks to 5 years of dealing with PTSD and all that comes with it) but what I took away from my military experience has benefitted me throughout my life.
I learned most people, regardless of race or religion are more alike than different. I learned that force and violence must be a last resort. I learned others have valid reasons for hating us and what we stand for, and they certainly don't hate us for our freedoms. They love us for that. I learned a lot of things which made 'Bush's Folly' seem all the more insane.
I knew failure was the only option, so did a lot of people. Iraq was a failure from the start and Afghanistan has been going downhill at an ever-increasing rate. The failure, those of us 'who've been there' warned about, is at hand. We barely have enough troops for the 'surge' in Iraq, stop loss and tour extensions accounting for most of them, extra troops for Afghanistan is pure fantasy; the reason the Chimp is pushing NATO to increase their commitment. Add that to the fact Osama bin Laden is still walking around loose. Talk about taking your eye off the ball.
Failure is imminent, our military is breaking, and we're rattling our saber toward Iran. It's time to get these insane warmongers out before they destroy us completely. We aren't winning anything.
Monday, February 19, 2007
This, Mr President, is how wars start
Don't think for a minute Bush doesn't know it.
New Statesman
Like, DUH!
Spies and Commandos; How America Lost The Secret War In North Vietnam (Heh - U. of Kansas Press) details how the Gulf of Tonkin Incident which launched the formal upgrade of the Vietnam War actually happened.
I read the book some time back, so this is from memory, but since I've got a mind like a vanilla trap, it's probably pretty close. It shows how a more or less accidental incident can trigger a war if such an incident is needed by the administration, i.e., any incident will do if it serves the intended purpose.
The CIA had a small-boat campaign going against North Vietnamese bases along the coast. South Vietnamese sailors and Agency personnel would dash in, shoot the joints up, and dash out. They did this several times. On the occasion in question, the NV were waiting for them and gave chase. The CIA boats spotted Maddox and headed towards her, seeking aid, either from gunfire or maybe just intimidation of their pursuers.
Said pursuers were shooting at them. Picture firing a large caliber machine gun from a pitching patrol boat at high speed. Boats heading directly for the U.S. destroyer, rapid gunfire at the boats from the pursuers. Got the picture?
One round, one round, hit Maddox, no doubt an overshot from the NV boats. Those guys weren't stupid: if they'd have attacked a destroyer with those speedboats, the tin can would've perceived a torpedo attack, opened up with everything it had, and blown them out of the water leaving not so much as an oil slick. Perhaps the boats had torpedoes, but if so, they didn't use them.
Whether or not Maddox was at that location on purpose just so the Agency people could precipitate the incident is unclear, but doubtful, to me at least, given the difficulty in getting the the right hand to co-ordinate with the left hand and actually pulling it off. Bureaucracies, CIA, U.S. Navy, just don't do that very well.
Didn't matter. The incident was sufficient unto the need, and ten years of stupid war ensued.
That is more than enough provocation than Bush needs to do what he wants to do to Iran.
New Statesman
Andrew Stephen in Washington warns that war could easily be triggered by the Bush administration's sheer incompetence
Like, DUH!
Flat-out lies, contradictions, the right hand not knowing what the left is doing: that, by far, is the most worrying aspect of the Iran crisis unfolding before us.[...]
But let us pause and take a deep breath. I have not spoken to anybody in Washington this week who actually thinks the Bush administration is planning imminent war against Iran, though I would be prepared to bet that Bush will launch some kind of military strike against Iran before he leaves office; I have, however, talked to insiders who think war with Iran could yet be the logical outcome of the muddle-headedness and incompetence of the Bush administration.
"If the Iranians decide to respond by showing that they can be tough guys, too, we could easily get an escalation of a tit-for-tat nature," he told me. "It would start in Iraq, where we start to do things and they respond. Then we [the US] believe they're responsible for that, and so we decide to ratchet it up by hitting them somewhere else, and then they respond by hitting us in the Gulf. And then we are at war."
More than 42 years ago, the USS Maddox and the USS Turner were allegedly attacked in the Gulf of Tonkin by North Vietnam, who claimed severe provocation. History is still vague as to what triggered a series of tit-for-tat incidents between the mighty US and little North Vietnam. But it is all too clear about the outcome. That, Mr President, is how wars start.
Spies and Commandos; How America Lost The Secret War In North Vietnam (Heh - U. of Kansas Press) details how the Gulf of Tonkin Incident which launched the formal upgrade of the Vietnam War actually happened.
I read the book some time back, so this is from memory, but since I've got a mind like a vanilla trap, it's probably pretty close. It shows how a more or less accidental incident can trigger a war if such an incident is needed by the administration, i.e., any incident will do if it serves the intended purpose.
The CIA had a small-boat campaign going against North Vietnamese bases along the coast. South Vietnamese sailors and Agency personnel would dash in, shoot the joints up, and dash out. They did this several times. On the occasion in question, the NV were waiting for them and gave chase. The CIA boats spotted Maddox and headed towards her, seeking aid, either from gunfire or maybe just intimidation of their pursuers.
Said pursuers were shooting at them. Picture firing a large caliber machine gun from a pitching patrol boat at high speed. Boats heading directly for the U.S. destroyer, rapid gunfire at the boats from the pursuers. Got the picture?
One round, one round, hit Maddox, no doubt an overshot from the NV boats. Those guys weren't stupid: if they'd have attacked a destroyer with those speedboats, the tin can would've perceived a torpedo attack, opened up with everything it had, and blown them out of the water leaving not so much as an oil slick. Perhaps the boats had torpedoes, but if so, they didn't use them.
Whether or not Maddox was at that location on purpose just so the Agency people could precipitate the incident is unclear, but doubtful, to me at least, given the difficulty in getting the the right hand to co-ordinate with the left hand and actually pulling it off. Bureaucracies, CIA, U.S. Navy, just don't do that very well.
Didn't matter. The incident was sufficient unto the need, and ten years of stupid war ensued.
That is more than enough provocation than Bush needs to do what he wants to do to Iran.
New Symbol Launched to Warn Public About Radiation Dangers
The new symbol is being launched today by the IAEA and the International Organization for Standardization (ISO) to help reduce needless deaths and serious injuries from accidental exposure to large radioactive sources. It will serve as a supplementary warning to the trefoil, which has no intuitive meaning and little recognition beyond those educated in its significance.
"Accidental exposure". Yeah, like if you're an Iranian.
Pretty good symbol, actually. The pictorial symbols for "death" and "beat feet" are universally understood.
Bush plans reach-around for bin Laden
Chris Floyd
I hope you get your wish, Bush me boy-o, because it'll be the last pitchin' you ever do. When you get to where you belong, all you're gonna get to do is catch.
The Angry Arab unearths this insight into the true mindset of America's oh-so-Christian commander-in-chief, George W. Bush, from a Haaretz review of a new biography of Bush's soulmate and mentor, Ariel Sharon. Like a DNA sample from a spittlefleck, this little glimpse of Bush gives us the man in his entirety, in his essence: the empty bluster of an impotent drunk; the ineradicable vulgarity of the fratboy mentality; and the uncontrollable sexual panic of a harshly repressed psyche expressing its thwarted nature in fantasies of rape and violence. (And in Bush's case, of course, the violence is not just fantasized, but acted out - by proxy – in horrific reality across the world.)
From The pessimist was right, by Uri Dromi; review of "Ariel Sharon: An Intimate Portrait" by Uri Dan (Haaretz):Speaking of George Bush, with whom Sharon developed a very close relationship, Uri Dan recalls that Sharon's delicacy made him reluctant to repeat what the president had told him when they discussed Osama bin Laden. Finally he relented. And here is what the leader of the Western world, valiant warrior in the battle of cultures, promised to do to bin Laden if he caught him: "I will screw him in the ass!"
I hope you get your wish, Bush me boy-o, because it'll be the last pitchin' you ever do. When you get to where you belong, all you're gonna get to do is catch.
Oh, the irony...
Ironic Times
Many more.
REPORT: 41 WANTS JEB TO BE 44
So he can pardon 43.
Fox News Channel Launches Own Satirical News Program
It's called “Fox News.”
Mexican Biologist Discovers 40 Dinosaur Footprints in Desert
Headed north.
Many more.
Giuliani, Tsunami Relief, Celebrity Speaking Fees
That Rudy Giulian took $100,000 + use of a "Gulfstream 4 or larger" to speak at a tsunami relief organization in 2005 is outrageous enough and should certainly lead to serious questions about whether he belongs in the White House or not is pretty much a given. But in all the discussion of this no one has questioned the sanity of the board of the relief organization that gave in to those demands. Oklahoma State University released a copy of their contract with Giuliani which shows similar fees (and documents the cost of the jet at $47,000). Aren't they at all embarassed that they did this?
What is it with speaker's fees? Who in the world is worth $100k to listen to? The boards of charitable organizations and the responsible parties at state schools should be being investigated for paying these amounts of money. As far as I can see, short of God, Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Satan or some other deity appearing in person (and that would warrant the fees strictly on a curiosity basis), no one on the face of this planet is worth that kind of money to speak. Especially when it involves a charitable or state institution. Most of us here already know that Giuliani is a vain asshole in a suit who became famous by playing hero for the cameras while the guy who should have been the hero was hiding somewhere, so there's really no story there. The story is the speaker's fees.
R.
What is it with speaker's fees? Who in the world is worth $100k to listen to? The boards of charitable organizations and the responsible parties at state schools should be being investigated for paying these amounts of money. As far as I can see, short of God, Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, Satan or some other deity appearing in person (and that would warrant the fees strictly on a curiosity basis), no one on the face of this planet is worth that kind of money to speak. Especially when it involves a charitable or state institution. Most of us here already know that Giuliani is a vain asshole in a suit who became famous by playing hero for the cameras while the guy who should have been the hero was hiding somewhere, so there's really no story there. The story is the speaker's fees.
R.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Women and Public Restrooms
E-mail is wonderful. Sometimes you get answers you don't need to know to questions you never would have thought to ask from folks who would understandably never bother to write or call to tell you this kind of trivial shit, but you are better for it. Here's one from my friend JoAnne:
It also unknowingly answers the question of why women use the men's room, particularly at professional motorcycle races where 'tubs o' beer' are the main refreshment. Probably happens at other venues as well. I have stood at a urinal more than once next to a young (usually - young single women seem less likely to give a shit than their older married counterparts) woman. There's nothing even remotely salacious or arousing in this, just someone going about their business, but it is informative to see how they do it. Pretty easily, turns out. Normal men's room etiquette applies.
Thanks, Jo. I couldn't have gone another day without knowing that! And the visuals - I like to fell out of my chair laughing a coupla times!
My mother was a fanatic about public restrooms. When I was a little girl, she'd take me into the stall, show me how to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then she would carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she would instruct, "Never, NEVER sit on a public toilet seat".
Then she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat.
That was a long time ago. Now, in my "mature" years, "The Stance" is excruciatingly difficult to maintain.
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter. The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (aka "ass gaskets" - G.) (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there were one, but there isn't - so you carefully but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance." To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.
It is wet of course.
You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain, her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose that somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At that point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out conspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women, still waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely at them.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it the woman's hand and tellher warmly, "Here, you just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restroom (rest??? you've got to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked question about why women go to the restroom in pairs - It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door.
It also unknowingly answers the question of why women use the men's room, particularly at professional motorcycle races where 'tubs o' beer' are the main refreshment. Probably happens at other venues as well. I have stood at a urinal more than once next to a young (usually - young single women seem less likely to give a shit than their older married counterparts) woman. There's nothing even remotely salacious or arousing in this, just someone going about their business, but it is informative to see how they do it. Pretty easily, turns out. Normal men's room etiquette applies.
Thanks, Jo. I couldn't have gone another day without knowing that! And the visuals - I like to fell out of my chair laughing a coupla times!
Just so you know, the e-mail came in a format with >> in front of every line, and no line or spacing discipline. Took me about 20 minutes to edit it out for the post. No need to thank me. I believe in suffering for my art anyway, and nothing, but nothing, is too good for our wonderful readers.
For the folks who brought you...everything
Got this from Scroff:
[I need a favor. I'm asking people to link to Merchant Marine Benefits at http://www.mmbenefits.info. Please go check out the site and if you think it's appropriate put up a link. Also, while you 're at it, send an email to your representative asking them to co-sponsor HR 23, The Belated Thank You to Merchant Mariners of WWII Act of 2007.]
It's for damn sure appropriate. Thanks for lettin' me in on it. Doolittle (R-CA) will be hearing from me as well.
Basically, the Act provides for a $1000 per month stipend for the surviving merchant sailors, average age 82, or their widows. Chicken feed for the service they gave.
You folks know what to do.
Here's a little extra on the WWII Merchant Marine. Off the top of my head, I can tell you that those brave sailors went in harm's way in un- or under-armed merchantmen. A lot of them died doing it, with no benefits of any kind. We could not have won WWII without them.
[I need a favor. I'm asking people to link to Merchant Marine Benefits at http://www.mmbenefits.info. Please go check out the site and if you think it's appropriate put up a link. Also, while you 're at it, send an email to your representative asking them to co-sponsor HR 23, The Belated Thank You to Merchant Mariners of WWII Act of 2007.]
It's for damn sure appropriate. Thanks for lettin' me in on it. Doolittle (R-CA) will be hearing from me as well.
Basically, the Act provides for a $1000 per month stipend for the surviving merchant sailors, average age 82, or their widows. Chicken feed for the service they gave.
You folks know what to do.
Here's a little extra on the WWII Merchant Marine. Off the top of my head, I can tell you that those brave sailors went in harm's way in un- or under-armed merchantmen. A lot of them died doing it, with no benefits of any kind. We could not have won WWII without them.
Tit for tat
Last week, Gord posted on the Chimp's so called 'evidence' of Iranian involvement in Iraq.
Yesterday, I linked a post by Col. Gardiner about the Iranians having 'evidence' of American complicity in bombings within Iran. Today, the Iranians decided to share theirs*:
So where does it go now that things have ratcheted up? Or has it come to the point where hostilities are inevitable?
Yesterday, I linked a post by Col. Gardiner about the Iranians having 'evidence' of American complicity in bombings within Iran. Today, the Iranians decided to share theirs*:
So where does it go now that things have ratcheted up? Or has it come to the point where hostilities are inevitable?
*And just a note, in case you think I just fell off the turnip truck. I put as much value in the Iranian 'evidence' as I do the American.
Mercy sakes! Sich langwidge...!
Fixer's earlier post, and comments thereat, reminded me of a story. A true story out of my own (half) vast repertoire. Maybe there's even a moral to it about choice of language, time and place, and the desired effect. Yer in fer a big windy here, folks.
Several years back, maybe twenty or so local ol' Jarheads got together on 10 November to celebrate Marine Corps Birthday. I've posted on those here and here. Read the second 'here' and weep. I just did. But I digress.
We gathered at a local restaurant attached by an open connecting door to a reasonably rowdy saloon full of folks there to party. They didn't have a clue what we were up to if they even knew we were there. All of us, and our wives or S.O.s, were nicely dressed and pretty much on our best behavior.
During cocktails and before dinner was the unstructured fun part. Reminiscing, schmoozing,fairy tales war stories, that kind of thing. Anybody was free to go up to the emcee's lectern and spout off on any Marine-related thing they wanted to. Clink a glass, silence and rapt attention, let 'er rip.
One fellow in particular did just that. He wasn't part of our party, just a Marine from out of town who had been in the saloon, noticed what was going on, and came in to visit. Naturally we welcomed him with open arms. He got up to speak.
Did I mention that this clown had been in the saloon? I think the word 'snootful' is apropos. He started talking about his heroic Marine Corps career as we all do from time to time. Well, this guy was using the saltiest language I have ever had the misfortune to hear in mixed company where the 'mix' wasn't Sailors. I mean 'fuckin' this' and 'fuckin' that' is bad enough in a crowd of folks you don't know, but 'syllable-fuckin'-syllable-fuckin'-syllable' was taking it a little too far, and the guy's blathering wasn't making much sense anyway.
The gals in this crowd weren't exactly virgins when it came to cussin', but that wasn't the point. I could see the looks on the faces of the guys, and they weren't exactly happy to see anyone, Marine or no, talking this way in front of their ladies. Something was going to happen, and something needed to be done right quick to shut this guy up peaceably.
Right then, in a rare flash of inspiration, I remembered a line I had read somewhere* and paraphrased it. I just broke in on the guy, in a 'drill field whisper' i.e. loudly and with vigor, with "Hey, dude! Watch yer language! There's Air Wing guys here!"
The whole crowd broke up laughing. The guy realized what he had done, broke into a shit-eatin' embarrassed grin, apologized, and left. Humor had defused the situation. I was kinda proud of myself I must admit, and several of the folks complimented me on the way I handled that as well.
End of story? Not fuckin' hardly. It was a memorable evening.
A nice dinner came and went and then we got down to the ritual and remembrance part of the evening. About this time, which is the serious part of the evening's festivities to Marines, the entertainment in the bar next door started up. A rock band. A really LOUD rock band. This was seriously fuckin' with the emcee's ability to be heard, not to mention breaking our reverent mood.
Me again: "Hey, Colonel, you want I should shut them guys up?"
The Colonel was a local and we knew each other pretty well. He smiled and nodded.
I went to the stage and politely waited until the band finished their number. I asked the front man if he would mind taking a little break and explained why. He looked at me like he was about to tell me to go get fucked. I came up with this jewel:
"Buddy, there's twenty half-drunk Marines in there, and about half of 'em are Highway Patrolmen and county sheriff's deputies." I wasn't lying. "I saw the van you guys came in. You want a few of 'em to go have a look at it?"
The guy stepped to the microphone and announced that there were a bunch of Marines who needed a few minutes' silence and they were going to take a short break. Have a drink. We'll be right back.
I went back in the restaurant and grinned at everybody. They grinned back, some of them in amazement. I couldn't believe I had pulled that one off either, but I didn't let on. Let 'em think I do that shit all the time as a matter of course.
A few minutes later, I looked over and saw a whole shitpot full of bar patrons standing in the wide doorway, watching as we concluded the solemn part of the ceremony. Some of them applauded after we sang the line "We are proud to claim the title of United States Marine".
The rest of the Birthday Ball went without a hitch.
Since we can't see into each other's minds, language is all we have to let others know what we think, mean, or want, short of grabbin' folks by the stackin' swivel, which is useful but not to be applied indiscriminately. Cuss words are used as adjectives for the less linguistically fleet of mind of us to describe the indescribable. They are used as nouns, verbs, gerunds, commas, exclamation points, every part of grammar or punctuation. They are used for breathing space, or just to let off steam. They are damn sure used for shock value to make the straights cringe.
They can very easily get you into a position where you can kick someone's ass that really needs it, or get your own ass kicked. If you can get someone so angry that they call you a dirty name, say, 'motherfucker' or 'traitor', them's fightin' words, and you can deck 'em without much fear of arrest or prosecution. Trust me, I know. "I'm not going to arrest him. You shouldn't have called him that. What did you expect him to do?"
There are folks, and it's absolutely beautiful to hear someone who knows how to do it unless and maybe even if you're the object, who can cuss up one side and down the other for ten minutes without repeating themselves and never use a swear word.
Time and place, and desired effect.
Boy, this was a long ramble. I'll close with part three of our Birthday Ball that year.
The guy who owned the restaurant was a Marine that had done his whole four-year hitch walkin' post in Adak, Alaska. He was a mite strange because of it, but a really good guy. His restaurant normally wasn't open for breakfast, but the next morning he opened up just for any of us who cared to show up, and served bacon, eggs, and all the SOS you could eat. SOS is a peculiarly universal substance in military chow halls, and has probably generated a few swear words all by itself. I love the stuff.
I showed up dressed for the occasion, wearing a pisscutter and my Marine Corps overcoat. Naturally, I rolled up my pantlegs and flang the coat wide open once in a while so it would appear to anyone behind me that...
Thanks for lettin' me bore ya. Later.
Several years back, maybe twenty or so local ol' Jarheads got together on 10 November to celebrate Marine Corps Birthday. I've posted on those here and here. Read the second 'here' and weep. I just did. But I digress.
We gathered at a local restaurant attached by an open connecting door to a reasonably rowdy saloon full of folks there to party. They didn't have a clue what we were up to if they even knew we were there. All of us, and our wives or S.O.s, were nicely dressed and pretty much on our best behavior.
During cocktails and before dinner was the unstructured fun part. Reminiscing, schmoozing,
One fellow in particular did just that. He wasn't part of our party, just a Marine from out of town who had been in the saloon, noticed what was going on, and came in to visit. Naturally we welcomed him with open arms. He got up to speak.
Did I mention that this clown had been in the saloon? I think the word 'snootful' is apropos. He started talking about his heroic Marine Corps career as we all do from time to time. Well, this guy was using the saltiest language I have ever had the misfortune to hear in mixed company where the 'mix' wasn't Sailors. I mean 'fuckin' this' and 'fuckin' that' is bad enough in a crowd of folks you don't know, but 'syllable-fuckin'-syllable-fuckin'-syllable' was taking it a little too far, and the guy's blathering wasn't making much sense anyway.
The gals in this crowd weren't exactly virgins when it came to cussin', but that wasn't the point. I could see the looks on the faces of the guys, and they weren't exactly happy to see anyone, Marine or no, talking this way in front of their ladies. Something was going to happen, and something needed to be done right quick to shut this guy up peaceably.
Right then, in a rare flash of inspiration, I remembered a line I had read somewhere* and paraphrased it. I just broke in on the guy, in a 'drill field whisper' i.e. loudly and with vigor, with "Hey, dude! Watch yer language! There's Air Wing guys here!"
The whole crowd broke up laughing. The guy realized what he had done, broke into a shit-eatin' embarrassed grin, apologized, and left. Humor had defused the situation. I was kinda proud of myself I must admit, and several of the folks complimented me on the way I handled that as well.
End of story? Not fuckin' hardly. It was a memorable evening.
A nice dinner came and went and then we got down to the ritual and remembrance part of the evening. About this time, which is the serious part of the evening's festivities to Marines, the entertainment in the bar next door started up. A rock band. A really LOUD rock band. This was seriously fuckin' with the emcee's ability to be heard, not to mention breaking our reverent mood.
Me again: "Hey, Colonel, you want I should shut them guys up?"
The Colonel was a local and we knew each other pretty well. He smiled and nodded.
I went to the stage and politely waited until the band finished their number. I asked the front man if he would mind taking a little break and explained why. He looked at me like he was about to tell me to go get fucked. I came up with this jewel:
"Buddy, there's twenty half-drunk Marines in there, and about half of 'em are Highway Patrolmen and county sheriff's deputies." I wasn't lying. "I saw the van you guys came in. You want a few of 'em to go have a look at it?"
The guy stepped to the microphone and announced that there were a bunch of Marines who needed a few minutes' silence and they were going to take a short break. Have a drink. We'll be right back.
I went back in the restaurant and grinned at everybody. They grinned back, some of them in amazement. I couldn't believe I had pulled that one off either, but I didn't let on. Let 'em think I do that shit all the time as a matter of course.
A few minutes later, I looked over and saw a whole shitpot full of bar patrons standing in the wide doorway, watching as we concluded the solemn part of the ceremony. Some of them applauded after we sang the line "We are proud to claim the title of United States Marine".
The rest of the Birthday Ball went without a hitch.
Since we can't see into each other's minds, language is all we have to let others know what we think, mean, or want, short of grabbin' folks by the stackin' swivel, which is useful but not to be applied indiscriminately. Cuss words are used as adjectives for the less linguistically fleet of mind of us to describe the indescribable. They are used as nouns, verbs, gerunds, commas, exclamation points, every part of grammar or punctuation. They are used for breathing space, or just to let off steam. They are damn sure used for shock value to make the straights cringe.
They can very easily get you into a position where you can kick someone's ass that really needs it, or get your own ass kicked. If you can get someone so angry that they call you a dirty name, say, 'motherfucker' or 'traitor', them's fightin' words, and you can deck 'em without much fear of arrest or prosecution. Trust me, I know. "I'm not going to arrest him. You shouldn't have called him that. What did you expect him to do?"
There are folks, and it's absolutely beautiful to hear someone who knows how to do it unless and maybe even if you're the object, who can cuss up one side and down the other for ten minutes without repeating themselves and never use a swear word.
Time and place, and desired effect.
Boy, this was a long ramble. I'll close with part three of our Birthday Ball that year.
The guy who owned the restaurant was a Marine that had done his whole four-year hitch walkin' post in Adak, Alaska. He was a mite strange because of it, but a really good guy. His restaurant normally wasn't open for breakfast, but the next morning he opened up just for any of us who cared to show up, and served bacon, eggs, and all the SOS you could eat. SOS is a peculiarly universal substance in military chow halls, and has probably generated a few swear words all by itself. I love the stuff.
I showed up dressed for the occasion, wearing a pisscutter and my Marine Corps overcoat. Naturally, I rolled up my pantlegs and flang the coat wide open once in a while so it would appear to anyone behind me that...
Thanks for lettin' me bore ya. Later.
*It was about a similar situation at a race car driver awards banquet where the language got too salty, "Watch yer language! There's mechanics here!" Another group with delicate ears. Ha!
"...to distract the public from reality..."
Daddy Frank.
There is much, much, much in between the quotes. Please go read.
Maybe the Bush White House can't conduct a war, but no one has ever impugned its ability to lie about its conduct of a war. Now even that well-earned reputation for flawless fictionalizing is coming undone. Watching the administration try to get its story straight about Iran's role in Iraq last week was like watching third graders try to sidestep blame for misbehaving while the substitute teacher was on a bathroom break. The team that once sold the country smoking guns in the shape of mushroom clouds has completely lost its mojo.
Surely these guys can do better than this. No sooner did unnamed military officials unveil their melodramatically secretive briefing in Baghdad last Sunday than Gen. Peter Pace, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, blew the whole charade. General Pace said he didn't know about the briefing and couldn't endorse its contention that the Iranian government's highest echelons were complicit in anti-American hostilities in Iraq. Public-relations pandemonium ensued as Tony Snow, the State Department and finally the president tried to revise the story line on the fly. Back when Karl Rove ruled, everyone read verbatim from the same script. Last week's frantic improvisations were vintage Scooter Libby, at best the ur-text for a future perjury trial.
Even if the White House still had its touch for spinning fiction, it's hard to imagine how it could create new lies brilliant enough to top the sorry truth. When you have a president making a big show of berating Iran while simultaneously empowering it, you've got another remake of "The Manchurian Candidate," this time played for keeps.
There is much, much, much in between the quotes. Please go read.
A tip o' the Brain to Welcome to Pottersville and Tennessee Guerilla Women.
Iraq Bans Opposite-Sects Marriage
From the inimitable Don Davis. Liquid alert!
There is nothing I could possibly add to that!
Bowing to the dominant religious elements in his Shia Party, Iraqi Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki announced today a complete ban on opposite-sects marriage.
The frenzy against opposite-sects unions was also whipped up by the radical cleric, Moktada al-Falwell, who claimed that the U.S. occupation of Iraq was Allah's way of punishing such blasphemies.
Sunni politicians also supported this move, saying that if you allow opposite sects to marry, it's just a slippery slope to a marriage between an Arab and his goat, or worse, a Jew.
However, one Iraqi politician, Sunni Vice President Dickwahd al-Cheney, was exposed as a hypocrite on this issue, since his daughter is married to a Shiite. Questioned about this contradiction on the Al Jazeera program, The Shiite-uation Room, al-Cheney replied by asking the host if he'd like to live to see another Ramadan, and bragged that he had once tossed an IED in an old man's face.
Although sectarian conflicts continue to bitterly divide the Iraqi government, all sects did manage to put their differences aside to unanimously pass a law legalizing gay marriage. As the speaker of the Iraqi Parliament said: "Whaddya' think, we're still living in the Seventh Century?"
There is nothing I could possibly add to that!
NY Man Charged With Trying To Fund Terror
CBS News
A crooked businessman, inner circle Repuglican, and terrorist enabler. The Repugs oughta make him "Man of the Year" for his outstanding above average poster-boy Repuglican hypocrisy.
Terrorism charges brought Friday against the administrator of a loan investment program claimed that he secretly tried to send $152,000 to the Middle East to buy equipment such as night vision goggles for a terrorist training camp in Afghanistan.
He was also charged with money laundering for allegedly causing the transfer on Aug. 17 of about $25,000 from a bank account in New York to a bank account in Montreal, Canada. The money was to be used to provide material support to terrorist, prosecutors said.
The indictment also charged him with wire fraud conspiracy and wire fraud. It said he devised a scheme to administer and promote a fraudulent loan investment program known as "Flat Eletronic Data Interchange" through which Alishtari and others fraudulently obtained millions of dollars from investors by promising high guaranteed rates of return.
CBS News has confirmed that Alishtari is a donor to the Republican Party, as he claims on his curriculum vitae. Alishtari gave $15,500 to the National Republican Campaign Committee between 2002 and 2004, according to Federal Election Commission records. That amount includes $13,000 in 2003, a year when he claims to have been named NRCC New York State Businessman of the Year.
Alishtari also claims to be a lifetime member of the National Republican Senate Committee's Inner Circle, which the NRCC describes as "an impressive cross-section of American society - community leaders, business executives, entrepreneurs, retirees, and sports and entertainment celebrities – all of whom hold a deep interest in our nation's prosperity and security."
A crooked businessman, inner circle Repuglican, and terrorist enabler. The Repugs oughta make him "Man of the Year" for his outstanding above average poster-boy Repuglican hypocrisy.
Wisdom
Chuck Hagel (R-NE) on Press the Meat:
A bit of nuance that has cost the Chimp, and the nation as a whole, dearly.
You can't talk about Iraq without talking about the composite dynamic in the Middle East.
A bit of nuance that has cost the Chimp, and the nation as a whole, dearly.
The Republican frontrunner
Pic courtesy of Lambert.
America's Crossdresser*/**. Yeah, he's gonna win.
*Not that there's anything wrong with it, but then I ain't part of the Republican 'base'.
**Link added after the fact.
Blog Whoring - For Photo Fans
The missus (Nature Gal) and I have created a new photo blog over at wordpress.com. You'll find it here. More to come. Hope you enjoy it.
R.
R.
Good poetry ...
A phrase you don't hear much from me. Not big on poetry, I'd rather they be set to music but that's just me. Our pal Sumo has a couple poems up, written by a Marine in Iraq, but it's Sumo's comment afterwards that got me:
Exactly right. Guys came back from Vietnam fucked up after serving one tour. Think about these guys who are now on their third or fourth. And the Rethugs don't want to talk about Iraq. Know why? Because then they'd have to admit all this, the blood, the waste, the tragedy, is on their, and only their, hands. They had the majority and they enabled the Chimp, Cheney, and the neocons in their quest for American Empire and they will have to answer for this.
It's time to do the right thing.
Update:
As I've said on numerous occasions (I'm lazy and ain't digging up links; there's a search box on the left if you're interested), the Chimp only supports the troops who are able to fight ... barely. This via our pal Montag:
Update:
Shakes blogwhoring in comments ... heh. She has an excellent look at the WaPo story:
...
Me [Sumo]: how much more of this stuff do we think is out there just like this one, anguishing over their roles in Iraq or Afghanistan. There must be miles and miles of it...waiting like a coiled spring...ready to snap...most likely to do harm to themselves because they can no longer live with what they did, witnessed or simply couldn't help their dying buddies ...
Exactly right. Guys came back from Vietnam fucked up after serving one tour. Think about these guys who are now on their third or fourth. And the Rethugs don't want to talk about Iraq. Know why? Because then they'd have to admit all this, the blood, the waste, the tragedy, is on their, and only their, hands. They had the majority and they enabled the Chimp, Cheney, and the neocons in their quest for American Empire and they will have to answer for this.
It's time to do the right thing.
Update:
As I've said on numerous occasions (I'm lazy and ain't digging up links; there's a search box on the left if you're interested), the Chimp only supports the troops who are able to fight ... barely. This via our pal Montag:
...
Lost paperwork for new uniforms has forced some soldiers to attend their own Purple Heart ceremonies and the official birthday party for the Army in gym clothes, only to be chewed out by superiors....
....One amputee, a senior enlisted man who asked not to be identified because he is back on active duty, said he received orders to report to a base in Germany as he sat drooling in his wheelchair in a haze of medication at Walter Reed. "I went to Medhold many times in my wheelchair to fix it, but no one there could help me," he said.
...
Update:
Shakes blogwhoring in comments ... heh. She has an excellent look at the WaPo story:
...
As usual, perhaps the worst part about this is the sickening propaganda for which parts of Walter Reed are used, while Building 18 and its occupants are hidden away from view like the flag-draped caskets of their brothers and sisters. Who, exactly, is helped by celebrating wounded veterans as heroes in photo-ops if they're then treated like shit for the next two years of their lives? It ain't the veterans; that's for sure.
...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)