Regan's Rubric

Holiday Sadness

2004-12-21T23:16:00.000+03:00

I read about the deadly rocket attack in Mosul today. My heart goes out to all the families of the deceased and wounded. Let's not forget over this holiday season that we can eat in peace because of the men and women risking their lives in support of our nation.

Bureaucracy, Red Tape & Regulations

2004-12-14T07:38:00.000+03:00

The election is over. I am back in the States. I have visited my family, and life is trying to reestablish itself into a semblance of normalcy.

Yet things will never be normal in the same way again. I honestly really miss being in Iraq. I thought I would leave it behind, but I can’t. I really don’t want too. Life their gives me something that life here does not. Life here is dull, which is both good and bad.

All I have here is bureaucracy, red tape, and regulations.

For example I took it upon my self to come into work on Sunday and get ahead start on a presentation I need to give in a few weeks and help a peer with their own presentation. I am there of my own volition and taking time out of my day to get the presentation done early while helping another.

I have been working in the office for nearly there hours when a person waltz’ in and sits down at a computer a few monitors down from me. This is strange because the office has dozens of rooms with dozens of computers each, but I don’t really pay attention.

I am discussing the finer points of the Iraqi insurgency with my colleague and a few expletives were included in my clarification.

I am surprised when I hear a voice say,” Do not say that word again.” With a tone of authority.

I turn around and stare incredulously at this woman and I ask her,” Do you realize we are fighting a war in which people fucking die… and you are concerned with my choice in adjectives when discussing it!”

To say I was furious would be an understatement of colossal proportion. I wanted to verbally attack her; to absolutely destroy her and her precious sensibilities. This is the world I find myself in when I go to work now.

They look to me to for so much because of my experience. I happily help to teach others were and when I can but when these incidents occur I am constantly reminded of the bounds by which I am held.

I have done more in my 5 years in the military than she has done in 20 yet people like her can hold me back or snub me for personal reasons and I am almost powerless to stop them.

Working with sensitive incompetents is grating. I realize that where ever I go in life there will always be people that I do not like, respect, or want to work for or with.

However because I am in the military I have to keep silent and respectful lest I face severe punitive action.

I logged off my computer and left with out another word.

If she has a problem with me using a word found in common parlance when describing a horrible detail of war…well then I want nothing to do with her or the military that allows her to continue wielding power and influence. Those that have not seen war because of incompetence or avoidance have no place in a war time military.

Parting Was Such Sweet Sorrow

2004-11-06T04:55:00.000+03:00

I have been home about 10 days. The shock of being back in civilized culture is disconcerting at times. I was really anti-social the first 48-72 hours.

Its good to be back in the United States again, although I do miss Iraq(I sort of expected this).

All my stuff is still in storage so I have been living on a friends couch till my townhouse is vacated on the 13th of this month.

I will continue writing when I am moved into my house and have settled down. I still have a lot to say about the war over there and the horrid people I meet over here(I live in California..a communist/socialist/anti-war for any reason... state).

Guantánamo Bay, Cuba

2004-10-15T09:00:00.000+03:00

I wonder what the ACLU thinks about when it tries to free the detainee’s at Gitmo? Does it keep track of the people that have been released? Does it know how many have gone back to terrorism? How many more people the released have killed and kidnapped?

Unfortunately their defense of “human rights”, has cost the lives of many truly innocent people around the world.

The terrorist prey on the ACLU’s world view in this case. Why doesn’t the ACLU protect the people the terrorists prey on? That seems a lot more philanthropic.

I will tell you. It’s because the terrorist fight their battles not in a civilized courtroom, but on and in any ground they can. They do not limit their attacks to arguments, courts, and notarized letters. They are limited only by how far their members are willing to go. As the world has found out, they are willing to kill themselves and innocent people to bring about their demands.

How does a group of lawyers protect people from terrorism? This can only be done by building or shaping laws to allow people to deal with those terrorists. As the failure at Gitmo has shown, catch and release, is far from humanitarian. The “victims they are fighting for are released and soon end up conducting terrorist attacks and kidnappings. Who is the victim here? Who should the ACLU be protecting?

Shooting Jackal's

2004-10-13T11:05:00.000+03:00

I woke up to the sound of Howitzers firing counter battery fire. The distinctive thumps rattled the window in my room.

I had some maintenance personnel install the blast resistant coating on the window. This means that when things blow up outside the window the concussive blast will not fragment the window. The window will remain in a sheet. This is much better than digging out thousands of tiny shards of glass after the window becomes a projectile.

I have also put ductape and card board on the window to block the sun. The tape and cardboard also make me feel more comfortable while I sleep. I know that it will not stop any of the frag but it is comforting thinking that there is at least a little more “stuff” between death and me.

My air mattress, which I bought at Sports Chalet, fits nicely over the cot I have in my room. I also brought sheet for the mattress, and use them in conjunction with my sleeping bag.

As I rose to my feet and wiped the sleep out of my eyes I heard the Howitzer fire another salvo. I wonder what they are firing at and why. I slip on my flip flops and wander down the palace stairs and out the front door. It’s about an hour past midnight and the moon has not yet set. Through the dim illumination I can see flash’s in the distance and then hear the explosion.

Having grabbed a bottle of water before I left my room I now opened it and drank a few gulps. While doing this I walked around behind the palace to look the other direction. There is a huge dry lake behind the palace. While I was taking another gulp of water my eyes wander up to the roof of an adjacent building. I noticed that there where people up on the roof.

This is unusual because it is O’dark thirty and there are never people up on the roof of that building. I walked over to the building now noticing the conspicuous absence of my side arm. After climbing the stairs on the side of the building I noticed that all three guys had rifles and night vision. I quietly walked up to and squatted next to the closest guy. “What are you guys doing?”, I asked. He replied, “Sniping the jackals.”

I sat up there for a few more seconds then briskly walked back to my room and grabbed my gear and weapons before returning. I sat on the roof for about an hour but did not take a shot. Bored, tired and not looking forward to working tomorrow I went back to my room and took a power nap before getting up for breakfast and “work”.

It is always eventful in Baghdad. The sky will shake with explosions periodically, and the air has a funny smell that is indescribable. We all agree it has an odor that varies in degrees, but not on how to describe the smell.

Thinking of smells. The worst smell I have ever come across was in a bombed out building. I was living right next to the carcass of a bombed out office building. Every time I would walk by this building or the wind would blow towards me from the building there was a stench that defied imagination.

It’s the kind of smell that you would imagine coming from the cesspit in hell. The rank and putrid fumes would just whisk by you and it took an act of utter will power to not wretch or vomit.

We eventually called in cadaver dogs. The dogs found a few bodies but we did not have the equipment to remove them or seal the ruble. So we had to live with the smell of cooking & rooting human flesh right next to where we sleeped and work. This is a good way to lose weight. I only meet a few guys who could eat with that stench. That’s grit.

That office building reminds me of a building complex I stayed in last year near Sadr City in Baghdad.

I had just returned from Tikrit where I had assisted in the last large assault of the opening phase of the war. We were staying in a government office-building complex. It was huge. There were about 10-14 office buildings that where 10 stories or higher most had a lot of superficial damage to the exterior. The looters had picked over the inside of the buildings before we got there, so it was a total mess.

I had been in that camp for about 4-5 days doing patrols into Sadr city and the outlying area. We had sporadic contact with enemy elements, as we would meander through the city on patrol. It was exciting. There are so many stories I have from just those few days on patrol. On one such day I had just come back to camp and was walking in a fairly deserted section of the camp. The marines had dug large trenches so we could all relieve ourselves in a semi sanitary manner. As I walked over to the piss-trench an Iraqi walked around the corner of a building in front of me.

I was shocked that there was an Iraqi in the wire. I yelled “Kef!” and drew my pistol. He was carrying a gas can and some hosing. I could not tell whether this was a suicide bomber or just some poor Iraqi looking to loot some fuel from the government.

As put him on the ground and called for back up I kept thinking that this would be an ironic way to die. Living through all the patrols, ambushes, and various attacks only to be killed by one random suicide bomber, after I had just safely returned from Sadr city.

A man I worked with here this tour, went home and promptly got killed in a traffic accident. The terrorists have beheaded several of the men and women I have worked with here; and every one of them said it would never happen to them. So I don’t think my mind was being overly depressing, just pragmatic because these things do happen and history is replete with examples.

Make No Little Plans

2004-10-12T10:52:00.000+03:00

I have been mulling over taking some time off and traveling around the world. My basic plan is to start in Indonesia and then head westward(via land not water) Traveling around each continent.

In light of recent events world wide and the growing anti-americanism I have begun to question wether this is a good idea. Obviously I would have to hide my affiliation with the military, and adopt a much more politically nuetral "cover". As detestable lying is...I appreciate having my head attached to my shoulders. Although just being American these days is target enough i suppose. I am wondering if its worth the risk, or if I am lowing the things I read about in the news out of proportion?

Debating this has given me pause. Of course the other factors besides terrorism are dominated with money. Money makes the world go round. Money. Is it better to save now, and secure the future at the expense of living your life? Or is it better to go on the trip and make more money later? This is a very simple question for a set of complicated questions. I have been trying to decide for a few months now.

"Man in the Arena"

2004-10-11T11:20:00.000+03:00

I lack the time to type anything original today. This quote below is from our 26th president. I wonder how the Mr. Bush and Mr. Kerry would view this quote.

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat. "

Too Many Victims & Not Enough Adults

2004-10-11T11:05:00.000+03:00

I would like to meet Andy Rooney. There are very few people these days who have traditional American values. I feel Mr. Rooney is one of them. I think America would be a better place if more people took responsibility for their actions and stopped letting everyone claim victim status.

Subject: Andy Rooney

Andy Rooney said on 60 minutes a few weeks back:
(for those of you that don't know Andy Rooney, he is a 82 year old US TV commentator)

I like big cars, big boats, big motorcycles, big houses and big campfires.

I believe the money I make belongs to me and my family, not some governmental stooge with a bad comb-over who wants to give it away to crack addicts for squirting out babies.

Guns do not make you a killer. I think killing makes you a killer. You can kill someone with a baseball bat or a car, but no one is trying to ban you from driving to the ball game.

I believe they are called the Boy Scouts for a reason, that is why there are no girls allowed. Girls belong in the Girl Scouts! ARE YOU LISTENING MARTHA BURKE?

I think that if you feel homosexuality is wrong, it is not a phobia, it is an opinion.

I don't think being a minority makes you a victim of anything except numbers. The only things I can think of that are truly discriminatory are things like the United Negro College Fund, Jet Magazine, Black Entertainment Television, and Miss Black America. Try to have things like the United Caucasian College Fund, Cloud Magazine, White Entertainment Television, or Miss White America; and see what happens. Jesse Jackson will be knocking down your door.

I have the right "NOT" to be tolerant of others because they are different, weird, or tick me off.

When 70% of the people who get arrested are black, in cities where 70% of the population is black, that is not racial profiling, it is the Law of Probability.

I know what sex is, and there are not varying degrees of it. If I received sex from one of my subordinates in my office, it wouldn't be a private matter or my personal business. I would be "FIRED" immediately!

I believe that if you are selling me a milk shake, a pack of cigarettes, a newspaper or a hotel room, you must do it in English! As a matter of fact, if you want to be an American citizen, you should have to speak English!

My father and grandfather didn't die in vain so you can leave the countries you were born in to come over and disrespect ours. I think the police should have every right to shoot your sorry self if you threaten them after they tell you to stop. If you can't understand the word "freeze" or "stop" in English, see the above lines.

I feel much safer letting a machine with no political affiliation recount votes when needed. I know what the definition of lying is.

I don't think just because you were not born in this country, you are qualified for any special loan programs, government sponsored bank loans or tax breaks, etc., so you can open a hotel, coffee shop, trinket store, or any other business.

We did not go to the aid of certain foreign countries and risk our lives in wars to defend their freedoms, so that decades later they could come over here and tell us our constitution is a living document; and open to their interpretations.

I don't hate the rich. I don't pity the poor. I know pro wrestling is fake, but so are movies and television. That doesn't stop you from watching them.

I believe a self-righteous liberal or conservative with a cause is more dangerous than a Hell's Angel with an attitude.

I think Bill Gates has every right to keep every penny he made and continue to make more. If it ticks you off, go and invent the next operating system that's better, and put your name on the building. Ask your buddy that invented the Internet to help you.

It doesn't take a whole village to raise a child right, but it does take a parent to stand up to the kid; and smack their little behinds when necessary, and say "NO!"

I think tattoos and piercing are fine if you want them, but please don't pretend they are a political statement. And, please, stay home until that new lip ring heals. I don't want to look at your ugly infected mouth as you serve me french fries!

I am sick of "Political Correctness." I know a lot of black people, and not a single one of them was born in Africa; so how can they be "African-Americans"? Besides, Africa is a continent. I don't go around saying I am a European-American because my great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather was from Europe. I am proud to be from America and nowhere else.

And if you don't like my point of view, tough. DON'T PASS IT ON!!

Keep'n it real with Gilgamesh in "The Raq"

2004-10-10T09:35:00.000+03:00

This website Gilgamesh, was emailed to me and I found the information to be interesting. I read the story a few years ago. Gilgamesh is a good story, and fairly interesting to me since I know where Nineveh is and have been there. This land has so much history.

# Five's 12 Step Program

2004-10-10T06:44:00.000+03:00

The robot...# 5.

So this one time...Myself and a few of the guys were using the robot to infiltrate and raid our coalition partners’ refrigerator.

Driving the robot around the obstacles in camp without getting it stuck is quite hard. Finallay after we had negotiated the terrain and arrived at our designated tent, the goal was within sight. We opened the door to their tent with the mechanical arm and drove it inside.

Using the camera to scan the room we saw the coalition guys look at the robot and laughing. They were speaking quickly in a language unfamiliar to me.

One of then pointed to the refrigerator. Using all his training and expertise the operator of the robot deftly maneuvered the robot to the fridge and opened it.

He now faced a choice. Grab one beer or try for a six-pack. Being more aggressive with operational risk he choose to go for broke.

He skillfully had the robot pick up a six-pack and carefully drove back to our position. We watched the entire endeavor on the TV with the remote controls. It was awesome. The six-pack was too.

Our coalition friends thought this was very funny and refused payment for the six-pack. (Having worked with many of our coalition friends I find they are far more valuable than their small numbers suggest. I will always have a deep respect for them and the contribution they and their countries have made. I am proud to call them my friends.)

Segue

2004-10-10T06:42:00.000+03:00

We unpacked the box container that had our EOD (explosive, ordinance, disposal) gear. In it we found two segue’s and a remote control robot.

Within minutes we had set up a ramp and were taking high speed runs at the ramp and getting “air” with the segue.

Here we are…a bunch of guys who are highly trained. Almost everyone is at least 25 years old. Most are married and have children; some of the children are teen-agers.

We are having a blast doing these childish stunts. Of course we didn’t stop doing this until about half of us were bloody and missing patches of skin. The segue’s are really fun to play on. It’s even more fun to watch someone as they learn how to ride one.

One of the funniest things I saw was a glimpse of a full-grown man being dragged at full speed by a segue.

I was in a meeting with the other guys deciding what and how we were going to do some stuff, when someone opened the door to the tent while exiting. Through the open door we saw and heard the segue scream by dragging this guy. A split second later the door closed again, and all we heard was a loud boom and then some laughing.

Just picture yourself in a business meeting. You are totally focused on important matters. Then someone opens the door and you see a guy being dragged by a segue. Then the door closes and you continue the meeting. Maybe I have a strange sense of humor, but this is hilarious to me.

We all just smiled and laughed while continuing the meeting. As soon as we finished we were outside in the 120 degree heat testing our skill with the segue, shirtless of course. It took several weeks for our skin to heal.

Test Site # 2

2004-10-10T04:55:00.000+03:00

My head feels like someone is beating it with a hammer as I reach to grab a tent pole. I am helping to break down the camp. We have finished the training exercise.

I take a moment to collect myself. The night before I had not drank enough water before I went to bed. The up side is that I did not have to get up to pee during the bitterly cold night…the down side is that I am now very dehydrated. The dry mountain air wicks all the moisture out of your body.

Everyone is moving efficiently in the tasks needed to pack our gear and hit the road. If we do it quickly enough we will make it back home before rush hour. This knowledge puts a little more energy into everyone.

I have always found the places where we train in the Nevada high sierra to be very scenic. They are much like areas in central and eastern Afghanistan.

Over the last several days I had noticed that the base was filling up with a drilling Army reserve unit. Just after breakfast I had seen them wearing full gear including gas masks.

I sort of snickered at this along with my companions. No one likes doing CBR(chemical, biological, nuclear) exercises. Its always fun to watch others go through a painful field exercise you have also done.

None of us thought much about why the Army guys were in full gear with gas masks at the ready. This is not how we operate, but then again we do almost everything differently from the big green machine.

As we were packing up one of the last large tents, which takes about 10 people we saw and heard some Air Force fighter planes drop some bombs on a range a few miles away. We watched the plumes and searched for other planes. When we saw that we would not be getting another show, we returned to working on the tents.

These tents are amazing. They are about 50 feet long, 18 feet wide, with a 10 foot ceiling. They have a double wall so they are insulated. Environmental units are attached to the tents and act as heater/ air conditioners.

I have used them in the deserts of Iraq and the High Sierra, and come heat or cold they are the most comfortable tents I have ever used, seen, or heard about.

They are about $250,000 each and only last a few years depending on usage and how well you care for them. I think they are worth every penny. I have used the old green canvas army tents and they are absolutely miserable in any weather condition.

If it’s hot your are unable to work because it’s unbearably smelly and you will ooze sweat constantly. If it’s cold you will be primarily concerned with keeping warm. Basically the new tent let you focus on working not environmental factors, and they are great for sleeping.

They are also very compact and light. They are geodesic domes made with a carbon fiber frames. You unpack them, bull the edges and they pop open. Then you add the floors, and stack & sandbag the edges. Easy to use, compact, light, and very comfortable.

I had a bad cold the entire week and had actually missed a day of work. I do not get sick very often. The last time I actually missed a day of work for the flu was 4 years ago when I came down with both mono and pneumonia at the same time. I did not feel nearly as bad then as I did now.

I was coughing occasionally as I worked disassembling the tents. My coughing was getting worse. Wow, my nose was starting to run again. I had taken a Sudafed to stop the cough and my runny nose. My eyes started to water. I stopped working and propped myself up on my knees as I started to cough heavily. I felt horrible. My dehydration made each cough a painful bright light through my skull. Someone was yelling something.

I looked around now for the first time since my newest fit of coughing. Everyone else was in a similar state and some were running for the nearest buildings. Then it hit me.

The Army guys, the gas masks, the bomb, its plume… We were being gassed. Wow this sucks. As I shambled towards the nearest building, to get out of the now invisible gas cloud, I was laughing.

Anyone who has been gassed with military CS gas knows the horrible feeling it causes in your body …for those that don’t. Imagine getting hit with civilian pepper spray or police issue pepper spray. Then concentrate this 5 fold and it’s a cloud that is thousands of feet across…there is no escape.

We had no gas mask and no way to get completely out of the gas cloud. We had to just wait it out. This is not fun. Humor is a great escape from the reality of the feeling. I am glad I was not the only one who found this predicament funny.

Typical. Typical luck.

“Don’t bring your gas mask you won’t need it. We are not doing any CBR training,” They said.

“Wow, that’s a cool plume from those bombs.” We said.
“Interesting…it’s blowing this way…” Someone remarked.

“This is our training area guys.” They told us.
“Hey isn’t this a nuclear test site?” I inquired.
“Yes, but its safe now.” They reply.

Oh, of course, it’s safe. That’s not the reason the government won’t be able to sell this land for like the next 10,00 years. My mistake for asking.

“How do you know it’s safe?” I ask.
“We have a medical form and waiver for you to sign.” They responded.

I am not sure how this answer my question but I read the form and find another question.
“What does Beta radiation do to you?” I ask.

“Don’t worry, it’s been approved for training purposes.” They said.
Just what the fuck does that mean, and how did that answer my question?

“What is the Junta virus?” someone asks.
“It’s a virus found in rat pooh, that will cause fatal wasting follow by death.” They state.

“Oh, so you mean we should try not to eat it then…” I innocently state.

So let me see here. First you waste away till you die, and then you die. Is that not what he just said? That’s a really clear explanation. Very official, very government like. First you die, and then you die again.

“Just fill out the form.” They said with little patience.

During this training exercise I walked around a nuclear test site. Was exposed to Beta radiation, Junta virus, was gassed, froze my ass off, and had influenza. Great. Just great. Who needs a vacation when you can enjoy work this much? And just think in a few weeks we will all be in sunny and warm Iraq. Life just doesn’t get much better.
I think of that trip and laugh. Who else can say they had a week in which all of these things happened?

The Beast of Burden Conundrum

2004-10-10T03:43:00.000+03:00

It was about 10 months ago that I was on one of my last training exercises. I was in the Nevada desert in January and it was bitter cold. The wind would take the chill right through your clothes and put it into your bones making them feel brittle.

We had finished the days training exercises and I was at a local Restaurant & Casino. I was contemplating what to order as I glanced about the room. The dinner was just a small portion of the Casino. Games and flashing lights were everywhere but in the restaurant.

The entrance was flanked by giant slot machines that seemed almost alive. The poker tables were deserted and the bar had few patrons. I ordered a steak with French fires from the waitress. She was a young gal of about 17-18 years old, attractive and innocent in a provincial way.

As my companions and I made small talk about work and told stories I noticed a portly man walk in the Casino.

Portly is a very nice way of describing 400lbs of mobile flesh. Probably 40 years old, balding, and wearing overalls he made his way to a stool in front of a slot machine.

The stools in this casino were made of a thick steel pole bolted to the ground with a seat on top. I assume this is to keep the rowdier patrons from using the stools as clubs when they are aggressively pursuing a disagreement.
This man-beast sat on the stool. I could almost see the stool straining and gasping for help as it creaked and vainly struggled to pull away from the bolts. This man actually managed to get the stool to tilt a few degrees under his bulk.

The effort of walking to the stool and sitting down seemed to have made the beast break a sweat. Breathing heavily he reached into his pockets and pulled out what looked like a roll of one-dollar bills.

The sight of him was distressing. The beast looked like he was 12 steps or a pork rind away from a heart attack I would be compelled due to my conscience to try to help him even though his personal neglect offends me.

It offends me because if I did not help him people would say I was selfish and cruel. It offends me because I would drop what ever I was doing to help. It offends me because I know he would expect me too. It offends me because I am mad at myself for feeling pity for him. The visceral emotion his form conjures leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Throughout dinner I watched several times as he dropped coins or peanut shells. He was unable to pick them up! He tried for quite a while once when he dropped a dollar bill. Eventually he had to ask a women walking by to reach it for him.

This made me lose my appetite and I left the Casino with that image of human decay seared into my mind.

It makes me think of the decay of American society when I see people like that. I wonder what he thinks he is entitled too? Health care? Handicap access? Handicap discounts? Front of the line privileges?

Maybe I am wrong but I think you can tell a fair amount about a person based upon how they present themselves. Based upon his appearance I came to the conclusion that he is lazy and wanton. He expects people to help him. He expects to be treated differently in a beneficial way because of his girth and its associated health problems.

One of my companions at dinner had suggested he had a thyroid condition. While this is possible I think it is highly unlikely. We all laughed at his humorous suggestion. I have seen these scenes repeated over the last several years in various places in the US. I do not like what it foretells about the future of our population and also the effect it will have on our health care system.

I am extrapolating here but; these people will be an incredible drain on health care as their bodies fail from neglect. They will not be able to pay for the medical care themselves.

Because of this they will vote for a political candidate that will push for more socialized and affordable medicine. As they become a larger portion of society they will be able to influence the nation agenda’s. Parties will court the “fat” vote.

I have no wish to pay for the physical maintenance of a person who neglects them self to the point of life threatening diseases. In fact I find the suggestion that it is my duty to do so contemptible.

They are siphoning off tax dollars in the form of government healthcare funding in a purely destructive self-centered attempt to repair the damage their own choices have caused. In effect and actuality they are demanding that my unborn children and I pay for this conscienceless and unethical choice of theirs.

As a society we need to tackle these issues. I don’t want to advocate denying treatment to anyone, but when do we start asking that they pay for it…and how? Do we treat the symptoms or the problem? At what point does our commonly accepted moral obligation to help stop?

Invictus

2004-10-10T03:36:00.000+03:00

OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Islamic History

2004-10-10T03:02:00.000+03:00

For those of you that are interested in Islamic history or Middle Eastern history, check out the link in the Title. This is the best web-based and most user freindly page I have found. I like it because it has a simple layout, and very detailed information. No unnecessary frills or windows. Just history and resources.

The Seer, The Gate Guard, & Myself

2004-10-09T09:56:00.000+03:00

I have been incredibly busy the last 10 days. I have only been able to catch 3-4 hours of sleep per night. On one such night I found myself driving across an open field. It was about an hour before sunrise and the moon had already set. I had the windows closed to keep the dust out of the cabin where my passenger and I were discussing business. I dimmed my lights as I approached the Checkpoint. As I rolled the window down the guard stepped out of his shelter and into the light.

He was nondescript in appearance. At casual glance no different than any other soldier here in Iraq. When he had approached and spoke to me I gaped at his maw.

He had what appeared to be an entire and sizable chocolate cookie jammed into his mouth. While he struggled to form a word with his mouth which was otherwise occupied trying to chew, I couldn’t help but stare at his maw. His tongue and the cookie were successfully collaborating to deny him intelligible speech.

With an enormous visible effort he eventually was able to utter a few words that I recognized. “I know you.” Was his statement.

I now noticed that the matter in his mouth was not a cookie but chewing tobacco. I know people who chew tobacco, and they usually ball it into a pouch in their lip. This mitigates it as a totally unacceptably disgusting habit.

However this was apparently not how this young man had learned to chew tobacco. His entire mouth, lips, teeth, and chin were strewn with saliva and tobacco. Partial wads of congealed tobacco hid the gaps between his missing teeth.

I tried my hardest to not stare at him with amazement. To be totally honest I am not sure I succeeded. With each passing moment the uncomfortable feeling of a gap that cannot be bridged began to coalesce.

“I know you guys.” He stated through tobacco and a gap toothed maw.

His posture spoke of someone who has to lean back to breath; someone whose paunch has long become a part of his person and personality. Looking at us like he knew something we didn’t he seemed to confuse himself with his own statements.

“I know when you guys are coming. I know where you guys are going. I know what you guys do.” He shook his finger and nodded to himself in agreement, yet still seemed to stare at an object not quite there. With a vapid look on his face he continued.” I don’t know you, but I know what you do.”

This confusing speech continued, as I looked on speechless.
“I know when you guys come and go”…”yup.. I knooww.” Then he just looked at me and continued chewing the tobacco with his maw gaping and oozing Tobacco juice and detritus down his chin. He didn’t say anything else. He did not wave us through the checkpoint. He did not ask for my ID.

I guess I have now met the one all-knowing and all-seeing gate guard in Iraq. I just hope the fates spare him from the terrible weight of this gift.

What do you say to someone who seems to be confusing themselves in there own justification for their initial comments? His amazing southern drawl combined with his mouth full of tobacco did nothing for his enunciation nor did it hide his in ability to articulate a coherent thought.

As I pulled away I laughed.

What was he trying to say? Obviously some thought had crossed his mind and he wanted to voice it, but either his words or his thoughts failed to materialize in a form that would commonly pass for a complete thought.

This odd experience at that checkpoint is just a moment of day in a land where the unexplainable is commonplace. Perhaps he has found his home; perhaps not. In either case he certainly gave me a laugh.

Pity & Poverty

2004-10-09T07:53:00.000+03:00

I pay taxes.
These taxes pay for government.
I accept this as my payment for services I get in return.
This exchange is beneficial to both parties.
The government provides basic services, such as, hospitals, police, fire department, military, et cetera. In return I work to the best of my ability.

I do not burden society; I create society.
I give back in the form of trade, taxes and my success creates new jobs.

When people do not do what is in their best interest, i.e. they do not seek employment; this breaks the deal held with the government.

People who expect money from the government as their entitlement, as their birthright are destructive. These people have a confused and dangerous view of what is their birthright.

The constitution tells them their rights as set forth to American citizens. These rights come in the form of freedoms. Freedoms to give you the means to reach whatever ends you choose.

The word “Means” does not refer to money (money is merely the intellectual agreement between two parties engaged in trade). Nowhere in there does it say you shall be given money because as a citizen you are entitled to it. (I am not above lending a hand to help people get employment. However, handouts are destructive to society)

Welfare is a social program that gives money, and housing to the needy. I agree with this program in a very limited and controlled manner. I feel that the program should be limited to support only those who were unfairly discriminated against or due to physical or mental disability cannot, without some aid, maintain self-sufficiency (I will leave the definition of these terms for another posting so as not to seem like I am obfuscating).

I feel this way because I feel that anyone can improve his or her situation through hard work (physical &/or mental). Expecting a person to work to support themselves is not evil, cruel, or unjust to the “impoverished”. In fact it should be so obvious that it’s putatively immoral not to believe this as fact. To say otherwise is to accept the notion that your best effort exists so others don't have to work, and exists solely for their benefit.

Poor choices by a person may have lead to that person’s impoverished position (should I be punished by having to shoulder the burden of their incompetence?).

If it was a series of choices that caused the position, then I feel the following. Do we really want to encourage poor decision-making by rewarding poverty (by encourage I mean remove the natural consequence of poor choices)?

I feel that the welfare system is abused by people who do not wish to find a job. People who do not want to stop accepting welfare checks. This is wrong and is not how the program should be applied.

What is poverty? How do we decide who is living in poverty? This definition is partly what will decide who is eligible for welfare checks (this assumes you think they are necessary).

If you have cable television can you also be living in poverty? Would you consider a person who can afford to eat themselves into obesity impoverished? Would you consider a person who lives in a multi room apartment impoverished? Can a person be living in poverty yet own a vehicle?

I define poverty, as a state of being that is inadequate to support a person with basic needs. This absolutely does not include wants, luxuries, and perceived national cultural entitlements. I have read several studies most notably those quoted in Ben Stine’s, ”Can America Survive?” that sum up the definition of poverty in America today and why its deceiving.

I have watched exposé’s on television for years. In these TV programs reporters go into poverty stricken areas and interview people and see the conditions in which they live.

I thought it was odd when I saw that there were some who were overweight, had a car, and had cable TV yet claimed to be living in poverty.

Looking back on this now I see what is wrong. The definition of “poverty” which allows them to claim victim status is incorrect. They are a victim of their own actions, not some crime, or unfair society.

Commerce, aka a capitalist society, rewards hard work, ingenuity, and ability. Any one of these three aforementioned traits is born into everyone (excluding the handicapped).

They are not victims. They do not need cable TV. They do not need a car. They do not need to eat enough food that they reach obesity. These are all choices they have made. No one victimized them and caused these events. They may live in what we would consider squalor, but is it their own fault and why should we pay for it?

I have gone without a car because I could not adequately afford it and the requisite insurance. I have lived in a single room suite. I have watched my electric bill to regulate the monthly consumption. I have chosen not to connect my cable because it was unnecessary and expensive. These are choices I have made.

I could have chosen otherwise, and whose fault would it be if I had been unable to pay bills? It would be none but my own.

These are luxuries, not rights or needs. There is no natural entitlement to these things. It is not like free speech or suffrage.

I would not ask society to foot the bill of my own poor choices. I still have the capability to learn from the mistake and with work would be able to recover. If they lack the drive to recover or pull themselves out of “poverty” then they have no right to ask or demand a penny from one who works for a living.

There are better things to spend tax dollars on than handouts to these lecherous destroyers of society. In times long gone they would have either succeeded or died off without sucking tax dollars away in a futile cause.

If that makes me a cold-hearted person…well then I am just a frigid realist who does not wish to sacrifice my best labors to the longevity of a decayed spirit that wishes nothing out of life other than welfare. Reward without work is what they ask. One who feels that this is right and just: who feels this is their birthright and entitlement will find pity for their belief but not there plight in me.

P.S.
The link attached to the Title is a positive development in social program managment. I hope to see more cities adopt such programs.

The Apology

2004-10-09T06:34:00.000+03:00

I have been extrordinarily busy with work recently. I am currently working on several posts. I will try to finish my thoughts and post these in the next two days. I apologize for the paucity in posting and to Plato for my cynical use of his lifes distinguishing work.

An Incompetent Ball of Lint

2004-10-03T05:42:00.000+03:00

An obviously angry person awakened me last night. They are senior in rank to me right now. I must admit I had slept right through my alarm. It was half past the hour. I was thirty minutes late although not late for any appointment or meeting. Just late showing up to the Headquarters building. This has happened twice recently (this month). As soon as I woke up and checked my watch, he stated imperiously and with venom, “Is there something you want to tell me?”

I looked at him and said,” no.” He stood there in the doorway until I was standing and rubbing my eyes before he left. I could tell he was really angry. However, I don’t really care what he thinks, does, or bitches about. Here is why.

I had slept through my alarm this time because I had been up for almost 3 days. I had been fixing problems he is not capable of fixing. While these are not justifications for being late, they are extenuating circumstances. I had over slept by a half hour which had extended my period of rest to a grand total of 5 and ½ hours. All things considered he is not in a position to bitch to loudly.

Specifically, he has eroded his credibility professionally through gross incompetence. He cannot function in the role he is supposed to be filling. Instead he makes himself useful doing random tasks around the Head Quarters building.

He does this while I actually perform and “do” the job. I don’t mind doing it alone, and I much prefer doing it alone to working with his bumbling incompetence. I can shine more brightly by doing it alone. While I burn brightly like the torch on lady liberty; he more closely resembles the ball of lint in the corner that is ignored because it is not quite offensive enough to be swept out with the trash. He will not be able to ride my coattails to success and accolades, which will be a benefit to the military.

I technically work for him, but this is misleading. My subset of skills falls under the umbrella description of his jobs’ oversight authority.

An example of his negligence was appropriately demonstrated in his handling of some of my administrative issues. Specifically he was supposed to submit some paper work so I can be considered for promotion. This is very easy, I had reminded him frequently, and his role as my reporting senior is to facilitate this task.

I normally would have followed up with the administrative assistants who actually handle this paper work to make sure it was all submitted and in order. However, because I was not located in an area where that was possible.. I did not check for his incompetence.

Thus, when he bungled/forgot to submit the paper work I was not allowed to be considered for promotion. (I have been up for early promotion on every single evaluation I have ever received; this is only accomplished with sustained superior performance.) He then tried to blame me for this error on his part.

I politely but firmly told him that I would allow him to try to fix this mistake before I made this an issue with the Commanding Officer. He again told me that it was also my fault for not doing the paper work, et cetera. I then, in a ungentle tone told him,” if this has to go up to a higher level of the chain of command you will lose and you know it. Your blithering stupidity has caused this...”

We just do not get along. Like oil and water we were not meant to mix. I try to make the best of it, but there is no denying that we are polar opposites on almost everyway conceivable.

The worst part of this is that he doesn’t even recognize his own incompetence. He some times wonders why people come to me for answers and request (even if he is available), but is never able to connect the dots of why they do this. He either does not know or does not care. Thankfully I will not have to deal with him for much longer because our tour here is almost over.

I am looking forward to going home and relaxing. I will also appreciate not being awakened by incompetent (I would prefer to use the term insolent. but that would be to pretentious) fools.

Car Bombs, Carnage, & Caterwauling

2004-10-01T05:58:00.000+03:00

There was another Car bomb in Baghdad today, actually several car bombs. I felt the blast clearly from the first one, but the rest just faded into the background of explosions which are common here. Unfortunately one of the attacks targeted both US forces and Iraqi children.

Although I do not like being a target, I understand why the insurgents target my colleagues and I in uniform. It comes with the job; it comes with the territory. After Beslan I had feared that insurgents, to garner more international attention, would use this tactic. I was right to my dismay. It does not take a genius to see what effect Beslan had for the Chechens.

The ambulance chasing paparazzi was on the scene within minutes, capturing the scene in digital high definition video for viewers around the world. This is a sick byproduct of the modern world and technology. Pandering carnage to the world. However, this act was not as depraved as the act it took to cause the scene.

The Iraqi insurgents chose to kill kids. They targeted children! 40+ Dead so far and 200+ wounded. They kill their own people without conscience, and yet I still see more of the Abu Ghurayb scandal headline in the news than car bombing reports.

A recent demand of the insurgents was the release of all female prisoners. It was not too long ago when they were first voicing that they would avenge their brothers in Abu Ghurayb. Is this the way in which they avenge their loss of face from humiliation? By killing children? How can you even compare the two? How can you justify it? If anyone knows please tell me because this is not rational.

I won’t even voice my assessment of the Iraqi insurgents because of my fear I will voice it in a series of expletive laced curses that could be too easily shrugged aside as a caterwauling humanist’s lament.

The scene can only be appropriately described as a tragic demonstration of the immorality of those we fight in Iraq.

Eminent domain...Socialism by another name

2004-09-29T09:52:00.000+04:00

I read this article today while scanning the headlines of American news. I find the act of eminent domain a good idea at first glance but an idea that can't help but be misused and bodes ill for private enterprise/entrepreneurs. Taking property rights in the name of public good is a very scary practice. I remember reading about this in history, but they did not call it eminent domain...

For detailed information about eminent domain follow this link to:Oliver, Vose, Sandifer, Murphy & Lee eminent domain and condemnation attorneys at law.

Vocabulary Quiz

2004-09-29T08:25:00.000+04:00

This is a esoteric vocabulary quiz. The words are obscure and very interesting. Although I don't like the interface and I think some of the definitions are missleading the words in question make it worth while.

Trophy Hunters...Should Question Their Pride

2004-09-29T06:02:00.000+04:00

While talking to a friend today we got on the topic of guns. My friend, Trent, is an avid gun enthusiast. He was telling me about how a new type of gun was now legal in the communist commonwealth of California. I told him of a type of rifle I found interesting, but would never buy because of the price. My rational was that I would never use it enough to justify the price tag.

Trent described his plans for his newest rifle, which I thought sounded really interesting. I would love to go target shooting with it some time. He had purchased a high caliber precision rifle and was planning on acquiring a top-notch optic for it. The grand total for his rifle without ammunition: $6000. I asked him what he would use it for, and he stated he would target shoot, but would like to eventually go bear hunting in Canada or Alaska.

I was appalled and told him as much, but in greater length.

Though there are many other points to be made for and against sport hunting, I believe that the arguments essence is captured below. I hope I have changed Trent’s mind and hopefully opened him to question why he wants to sport hunt. By asking himself what he seeks and how to properly achieve what he is looking for.

I understand killing for self defense and approve of it. I understand killing to cull a herd and approve. I understand Hunting for food. I do understand hunting for sport but only approve in a very strict sense and believe that it is corrupted in the modern world.

Hunting for sport can be motivated for many reasons. Hunting to prove your manhood and challenge yourself is something some men need or want.

However I don’t see the sport in Killing an animal that has no chance. Using a high power rifle to shoot a bear at great distance is not sport. I would personally be embarrassed to say I was proud of killing that bear. That is the same as slaughtering a pig at market.

This is not killing the animal to use its body as Indians would. There is no purpose for this killing but the motive of the killer for satisfaction or fulfillment. This is killing for the sake of killing. Killing to prove manhood. Their corrupted thought process allows them to believe it’s man vs. beast, kill or be killed.

I am not an avid hunter but have hunted before. Now when I say hunted I mean I have truly hunted. I used no firearms. I stood toe to toe with my adversary and used knife, spear and my bare hands. I have hunted many things including wild boar in the rainforests of northern Australia.

I made a spear of Bamboo and used my bowie knife to kill boars. Some were quite large and very aggressive. I did this on foot where the boar could face me and defend itself. This was fair. The boar had a chance to survive. He could run, or he could face me and fight. He could win the fight and kill me if I made a mistake. This is fair; this is the only way I approve of sport hunting big game. This is a kill or be killed situation.

I think you would find a lot less hunters in the world if this was the only acceptable way to sport hunt. It is much rarer to find a man than a hunter in todays world.

I think it should be obvious to those people that hunting for nothing other than a ecologically destructive self-centered reason is not an act to be proud of. The only way to garner pride would be to face it like a man not a coward. In a situation where you have to confront your fears, not avoid them.

They are in some ways aspiring to prove their manhood and virility by slaying a large animal. You cannot prove this with a cowardly act. You have only proven that you are unfit for the title of manhood if such a thing exists.

By either intellectual negligence, lack of comprehension, or a corrupt sense of pride in a cowardly act, sport hunting with a rifle has become acceptable in the small community of North American big game hunters.

This general malaise is rife through many parts of our society but that thought is not for this entry.

The Animal Brain

2004-09-29T04:55:00.000+04:00

Yesterday I saw a comical scene. I was driving down a road along a canal, and in the on coming traffic was a beat up old dump truck. Covered in dust with flecks of orange paint showing through, my passenger and I just stared at the truck and laughed. The truck had no front windshield, which is not unusual.

However, three of the four occupants of the truck had their legs hanging out the front window as if they were in recliners. Aaron and I laughed as we drove by. This unsafe method of transportation looked really comfortable and we discussed what the reaction would be back home if we were to try it.

As I continued driving down the road we chatted about what it was like last time we were here, and how it had changed. Taking a left turn out of the base I was following a group of Iraqi trucks that handle sanitation services. The smell is less than inviting and more than enough to keep thoughts of hunger from your mind. It leaves an acrid gummy taste in your mouth that lingers well past your separation with the offending transporter.

Several more turns followed and as I pulled onto a dusty path that traversed an open field the fine dust that the trucks in front of me kicked up clouded my vision. The wind whipped up the fine dust and suspended it in the air. Only able to see 10-15 feet I slowed down to about 10 miles an hour.

Literally driving blind at noon was not what I though I would be doing when I had woke up that morning. The sun beat mercilessly at the dust but could not penetrate it. The dust seemed to carry the light and bind the light. It seemed like minutes passed before I could see more than ten feet in front of the trucks hood.

In that short span my mind sifted through some memories and looked for threats. I peered forward trying to see the trucks that should be in front of me. I looked for anything I could use for cover should we get mortared or attacked. I glanced behind to see if we were going to get struck from behind by a reckless driver.

I searched the limited horizon straining my vision for a canal or obstacle either one could be deadly and dangerous. If you fall into a canal while wearing your gear you are not going to swim very well. Now imagine trying to get out of the tight confines of a wrecked truck, sliding out of your body armor, and then trying to find the surface of the canal to breathe.

Several times when I was here last year we had sandstorms that lasted days. This temporary dust cloud reminded me of those times. The way it was bright out, but the light had no direction, the sun as a barely visible orb, the swirls and streams of dust whisking by your field of view. Maybe in another time this would be relaxing. Caking the moistness around your eyes, nose, and lips. Covering every part of you with a faint sheen of fine dust. You are alone in it with no sense of direction. If you look up you will get vertigo and stumble, if you look down you will barely be able to make out your boots.

The dust eventually cleared enough for me to see and I continued driving to my destination. I was not sure that the route I had chosen would go where I wanted because the road we were supposed to take had been closed and the dust had visually disoriented me. But my internal map said it was the right way, even though I had my doubts. Instinct was right this time just as it has been before.

I trust my instincts much more than I did just three years ago. It has literally saved my life several times. A sudden strong feeling for seemingly no apparent reason would make me chose one path over another. The feeling was contrary to what my mind was telling me to do. I can only describe it as an odd sense of danger even though there was no indication. The feeling basically conveyed in emotional terms, if you do that, you will die.

I am not a neurologist but I am interested in why people get these strong feelings because they are obviously a trait passed down from our ancestors for survival but which has no place in modern life except in exceptional circumstances.

A Little Help From Congress...

2004-09-28T06:01:00.000+04:00

I was having a conversation with a few guys I work with and we got onto the subject of money. Specifically one of the guys was saying that he was upset that his Dislocation allowance was not getting into his paycheck. I don't get dislocation allowance.

Here are a few of the monies that a married service member gets. Dislocation allowance, the housing allowance is greater, and family separation is paid only to married personnel. It is not paid to service members who are not married.

Married guys getting paid more. Much more. The guy I was talking to is my same rank and has been in the service 2 years longer then I have. He makes 600$ a month more than I do(adjusted for time in service). I am not mad at him, but this makes my blood boil!

This inequitable payroll practice should be illegal. It has angered me for years! I work very hard at my job and am universally lauded for it, but he makes more money. We are the same rank, yet he makes thousands more a year, only because he is married. He could do the bare minimuim at work, barely scrapping by, and he would still make more money; only because he is married.

There are so many things that this pay preference causes that are detrimental to the service. By being in the service I am already sacrificing many things. Then to be subjected to discriminatory pay practices is deplorable.

(Young kids get married at 18-20 years old so they can have more money. Next thing you know they are having a child, and the mother doesn’t work, if she ever did before. If she is in the military she is probably no longer able to work the job, which she “volunteered” to work. Now someone else has to do her job while she gets paid more money than the replacement. )This is a gross generalization but I challenge any service member to tell me it's untrue in general practice, or that they have not seen it happen.

This was strongly contributed to by the Military policy of paying married personnel more. If they equalized the pay, this problem would lessen, and they would see a decrease in lost man-hours due to childcare. More importantly they raise moral and job satisfaction by fairly paying its personnel. I understand merit based pay is not possible in the military, but at least paying the same to people of the same rank should be mandatory.

I think about all the people at my rank who make more money while they sit comfy in their homes in the US, while I have volunteered to deploy to the war zone again and again. It makes me want to scream and rant and rave. All I want is for the pay to be equal. If that means I make more okay. If that means I make less okay.

Do not reward them for a choice they make in their personnel life that has no bearing on their military duties. I would like to see congress address and fix this issue, after all they are the ones who approve the payroll of the military.

Live Long & Prosper

2004-09-28T05:50:00.000+04:00

I gave myself a haircut today. I figured it was time to clean up the mop because I will be coming home soon.

The last time I had a haircut was probably 2 months ago. I grabbed a pair of scissors and a comb while walking to the bathroom mirror. After dousing my head to wet my hair I proceeded to give my self my first haircut. It’s a little uneven all over and looks sort of artsy (not in a good way). I was going to shave it all off, but decided to let it grow out, even though I look like a moron from a Star Trek convention. Next time I will take the time to go to a barbershop.

Getting to a barbershop here is an act of will power. I have to set 2-3 hours aside for the trip. Make arrangements for: transportation, communications, security, and get another person to go with (2 person rule). While this sounds more complex than it actually is, if one piece is not available I cannot get a haircut at the Barber.

Once my passenger and I have put on our gear, and gotten into the car, we now have a long drive ahead of us. Through several gates, checkpoints and pothole strewn roads we wind our way to a base that has barbershop. There are other closer bases with barbershops but the one we go to has a great post exchange (small shopping center). The drive is about 45 minutes, +/- 10 minutes.

When we come here I usually go to the store and stop for a whopper at Burger king. I don’t eat much fast food at home, and certainly not a whopper with cheese and mayo, but it is a refreshing change of aperitif.

The Indian workers that labor in the Burger King are either industrious or completely devoid of energy and care. It makes quality control of the establishment very hard. Some burgers come out well prepared and others look as if they were an abortion of the fast food world. In both cases they drip grease and mayo. I hate both and find it hard to stomach even the thought of greasy mayo on a burger I am about to eat. Circumstances can make even the staunchest of feelings be overcome by the desire to change routine.

A downside to going to the Post Exchange is that it makes an inviting target for the enemy to mortar, and he does so frequently. I will probably leave here before I will need another haircut.

Poms, Palms, and the Pacific

2004-09-26T10:46:00.000+04:00

Wow. I am speechless... Mutiny on the Bounty

The Emperor's Clothes

2004-09-26T07:28:00.000+04:00

I have seen the different spins the news and a certain candidate have put on Dr Allawi's speech and find it embarrassing. How could they gloss over or miss the pertinent background to this speech’s contentious points?

Dr. Ali Fadhil, wrote a good rebuttal to the criticism of the speech in his blog entry for September 25th, 2004, Iraq The Model. I found it had both poignancy and great acumen. There are several points he hints at but did not discuss.

What is the cost of the average Kilowatt-hour in Iraq? What is the cost in Jordan, Qatar, Iran, Syria, Kuwait, Turkey, or Bahrain? Doing a little research would have informed the hopefully embarrassed American and International media and political pundits that Iraq in fact pays substantially less than its neighbors per Kilowatt hour.

The bald faced lie about having less power now than before the war just once again illustrates the total paucity of facts the main stream media uses in their “investigative reporting.” What a total farce! I would describe it as… “Oxymoronically named reporting, swathed in a cheap imitation of the emperors clothes.”

I need only mention the names of the two “distinguished” reporters in the NY Times and Washington post that displayed their outstanding quality of character thus upholding the proud tradition and pillars of journalistic integrity( Read this article by Carl Bernstein for more information on this subject).

Though there are many other omitted fallacies in their reporting, one notable example being security, I will not waste my time discussing them because I partly indict the media for this situation.

Using the verbose vernacular of a well educated man to address the nation from the rose garden & Senate floor allowed a good target for people seeking semantical inconsistencies between Bush’s and Allawi’s comments.

This deconstruction of their speeches is a part of both politics and journalism. Doing the latter part incorrectly makes the journalist a partisan enabler. When they shed the solemn robe of journalistic integrity they have lost their sway with me. Their job as journalists is to report the facts not distort nor omit them. We need more journalists and less politicians in the media.

Formula One, Lions, & Impressionist Art

2004-09-26T05:44:00.000+04:00

Damn its dusty. I can barely see through the dust, as it is blows across the road in front of me like a heavy veil of opaque sand shifting from yellow to brown and back. Downshifting to control the spin of the rear tires so I don’t slide underneath an oncoming tank snaps me out of my visual reverie.

Jamming the gas pedal down to accelerate through the turn makes me smile. The radio is blaring “freedom radio” broadcast live from Battle Creek Michigan. The latest pop tune hums through the decrepit and dusty speakers at high decibel.

My late model POS with tinted windows is so dusty that its color is a light brown with flecks of what might be paint showing through. Having never washed it I don’t even know what color it was originally.

What I do know is that it has a radio that works, windows that work, comfortable seats, and plenty of go power.

I rev the engine to near its limit as I violently swerve out around a truck full of Iraqi workers. Flying by the traffic on the shoulder of the road, cutting in and out of traffic as I choose the fastest route. Chaotically avoiding potholes and debris makes the car seem alive as its suspension is challenged to keep up. My passenger “Marty” holds the “Oh shit” handle with one hand and his rifle with the other.

Honking to get cars, trucks and people out of my way is second nature. Both my passenger and I are sweating profusely in the 130-degree heat. My shirt is plastered to my body and is cooled by the A/C as it pours into the cabin. My hair is matted to the sides of my head but the top is wild and alive in the wind. I think my last haircut was 2 months ago but I am not sure.

Marty points out a roadblock up ahead, and I look for a way to circumvent the backed up traffic. To my right there is a field with relatively flat dead grass and dirt where a truck long ago drove leaving ruts and flattened tire tracks. I slam on the brakes sliding the car off the road and into the field.

Downshifting to controlling the slide to keep momentum into the field and searching for features that would stop the car in its tracks takes my full concentration. As the car violently bottoms out and lurches over uneven terrain Marty and can’t control our laughter. It feels good to be alive.

Exiting the field on the far side of the traffic choke point the tires screech loudly as I pull on to the road. We are on a very tight schedule and needed to be where we are going 10 minutes ago.

I see the final turn I need to make and rotate the wheel with one hand as I yank the hand brake with the other…. doing a smooth J turn into the entrance. I slowly pull up to the guards and show my credentials. I go through the usual pleasantries even though I am in a dire hurry. I have made it a point to learn their names and ask them where they’re from and when they will be going home.

The seconds and minutes I spend making small talk, thanking, and appreciating the work of these soldiers will be repaid a thousand times over should I ever need it. Conversely if I am rude or short with them they can make my life a thousand times more tedious. Though I am in a hurry I consider this a worthwhile down payment for a future favor.

Marty is also a great people person and flawlessly compliments my small talk with them. We are waved through and made our meeting. Though in a legitimate hurry in the meeting we are still friendly and courteous. The people we meet are aware of the hurry and help by keeping brief and to the point with the conversation.

Saying our good byes we leave their building, the sun is still an hour from setting. I unlock the passenger door and then mine before opening my door. I take the last sip of my Coke Light...the Arabic version of Diet Coke... and toss the empty can into a nearby trash can.

As I sit down in the comfy seat I slide my rifle into the slot between the seat and the transmission hump and shifter. As I adjust myself in the seat I feel the reassuring pressure of my sidearm pressing into the small of my back.

I use a law enforcement type holster for my sidearm. It rides on my belt in what looks like an upside down position. It is actually set up for my right-hand to reach back and draw it out in a natural movement. My shirt is not tucked in so most people never even know I have it their unless I lean forward or adjust my shirt.

My slacks have sweat stains from where they dried in the meeting and pull roughly on my thighs as I settle them in a more comfortable position. Marty and I exchange glib remarks about how incredible the roads are here and our trusty car.

Exiting the parking lot after saying good-bye to the guards...the pedal hits the floor.

Feeling the car’s rear axle pull to the right as I accelerate away from the guards makes me smile and laugh. Some bumps and potholes can’t be avoided so I brake like a Formula One racer, pass over the bump, then accelerate furiously till the next bump slows me.

All the while listening to various pop tunes or local music through the radio. Marty and I joke back and forth pointing out ironic or hilarious things we see.

I remember several times when we were out on some such trip and had Kodak moments. Seeing the silhouette of choppers trailed by whirlwinds of dust, the palms and minarets in the setting sun, heat shimmering off the road…. These will always be a strong memory.

As will the time I went for a jog one night and ran into some local inhabitants.

Late one night I decided to go for a jog. I was on a base in downtown Baghdad and knew that as long as I did not exit a gate I would be safe while running. Safe means I only have to worry about rockets and mortars hitting me.

I had taken a quick survey of the base before dark while walking to get dinner. Choosing a direction on a perimeter road I started jogging. Although it was a hot night and the air was choked with smoke and soot it was ten times better than running during any daylight hour.

I had run two laps and kept feeling nervous when passing by one section of the base. During my third lap I stopped and investigated the area.

The area had a few wreckers and tanks parked by the road with a large man-made hill behind them. I walked between the tanks to the hill and noticed that in the trees next to the hill there was a lighted large vehicle shelter or maybe a building hulk.

As I walked closer it became apparent that this was not a vehicle shelter. This was a large cage. A very large cage. This was not just a natural clove of trees but a small enclave of nature that was Fenced in.

I walked up to the edge of the cage and peered into the darkness. The cage was illuminated but the trees in the center of the cage blocked the light from everywhere but the perimeter.

Cast in bars of shadows I saw movement. Silently and smoothly a Lion walked toward me. Then another, then 3,4,5,6 of them walked toward the side of the cage where I stood.

I have seen Lions in Zoo’s before but these lions here were different. They looked at me like I look at a juicy steak. I had heard Qusay and Uday feed people to the lions and looking into the eyes of the Lions here I knew it was true.

These were predators. They belong not here but in the Serengeti. I truly felt sorry for them. No matter what happens to them they will never be free. People will save them by putting them in a Zoo, or kill them because they are too hard to care for. There was a sign on the Cage that stated, “Do Not throw dogs, cats or food into the cage". I read this and laughed t the mental picture it brought up. But what a poor substitute for freedom or the hunt.

What people do not realize is that they do not need to be cared for…just left alone. We are the problem not they. If a lion in the jungle or grassy plains of Africa eats me... that’s the food chain in action. Unfortunately they are now hunted to near extinction. Their habitat is being destroyed by a cold and callous people with little regard for the natural world they inherited and will eventually bequeath. It's sad to think that my grand children may only read about animals like this in books some day.

I can picture them asking me what they smelled like or how they moved. Things that cannot be accurately described. Things that have to be experienced to truly know. I watched them for several minutes before continuing my jog in a much more melancholy mood.

Another strong memory is from a few days after I first meet the Lions (Whom I visited frequently). I was sleeping on the third floor of a Palace. Fitfully trying to sleep is a better term for what I was doing.

The heat was stifling on the third floor, each breath a labor. Trying unsuccessfully to sleep in my cot; eventually I gave up and left my mass of pooled sweat and bedding to seek greener pastures. I found a little used room off the beaten path.

It was a brisk 120 degrees with a beautiful white marble floor, pink and gray marble walls, and an intricately carved multi color plaster ceiling. I just lay down on the seemingly cool marble floor and eventually passed out.

I woke several times to find my shirt and shorts soaked through with sweat but was much more comfortable in the marble floor than I ever was on my cot. When I finally rose the sun was gleaming through the large picture window. Making the suspended motes of dust sparkle as they swirled around me.

I stood and stretched to get the stiffness out of my body. As I looked down I laughed. I had left a small lake of sweat on the floor, which had swirled and mixed with dust to create a veritable canvas of impressionist art. I walked bare foot acroos the marble floor to the window peering out into the bustling Baghdad streets.

I only gazed at the scene for a few moments before I went hunting for water. Feeling like a dried prune was not a good way to start the day. Grabbing my rifle from where I had propped it against the wall, I left to find water.

I look back at each of these memories and count myself lucky to have lived them. The colorful tapestry that makes a persons life will influence their future actions and decisions. I want to have a life full of color and vigor. Better to have tried many things many times than to have never tried at all. Neither knowing the joy of success or the sorrow of failure is to have wasted a life that started full of possibility.

Caught in The Crossfire of Snow Cone Makers

2004-09-24T10:57:00.000+04:00

I read this article while perusing the news today, Arms Sale. While it paints a frightening picture, I had to laugh at a thought that crossed my mind. In the movie "True Lies", now governor, Schwarzenegger is asked to identify a nuclear warhead. With panache he stated,” Is it a snow cone maker?” Though this is a serious article the quote appropriately illustrates the lack of respect people in the international community have for an Iran equipped with Nuclear forces.

P.S.
This article will Also give pertinent information on the regions background and rhetoric, Iran And Other Nuclear Bombshells.

Bellicose or Pragmatic?

2004-09-24T09:01:00.000+04:00

In the last two days reports have surfaced on Islamic websites stating the execution of Mrs. Simona Pari and Mrs. Simona Torreti. These two Italian women were kidnapped from their downtown office on September 7. I sincerely hope that they are in fact not dead and will be released soon. They had worked in Baghdad for quite some time doing much needed aid work and will be sorely missed (I do not expect them to stay in Iraq if freed).

The beheadings of the two Americans Armstrong and Hensley sickens and worries me. The British captive and the Italians face a horrific fate from their lecherous captors. What has this region come to that these acts can be committed with regularity? Everyone I talk with or read articles from rail against these acts.

I agree with the policy of no negotiations. However with the advent of web based terror videos showing captives pleas we are seeing countries cave in to domestic pressure. I understand this on the grounds of political viability and short-term cessation of terrorist hostilities against said country. This does not make it the right course of action. It is a seemingly more kind-hearted approach than sacrificing the hostages based upon principle. The long-term effect is a terror that sees it can marginalize Nation State involvement in world affairs.

Last year George Shultz gave a speech where he outlined his view of the potential world future. He eloquently stated that we are seeing a struggle of the Nation state system to survive. The sotto voce speech was troubling because of what it portends for the future and what I see currently in world affairs.

This struggle is being played out in many regions throughout the world. Russia: Chechnya hard-line Islamic succession. Pakistan/India: Kashmir religiously fueled territorial dispute. Afghanistan/Iraq: Wahabist/shar’ia Islamic revolution. Iran: Rogue bellicose nation seeking nuclear weapons. Nepal: communist rebels. North Korea: Rogue bellicose nation seeking Nuclear weapons. Indonesia: Aceh’s provincial Islamic revolution. Republic of the Philippines: Abu Sayef & Moro Islamic Liberation front fighting for Zamboangain Islamic Independence. Columbia: FARC & ELF drug fueled quasi-communist mackt politick revolution. Sudan: ethnic cleansing. Somalia: civil war. Bosnia/Serbia/Croatia: criminalization of government. There are too many minor conflicts to even list.

I think that it is quite obvious that when nations fail chaos reigns. Mr. Shultz drew the same conclusion. Chaos by this definition, but not necessarily limited too, is a lack of laws and civility found in Nation states. The series of agreements, which we abide by, are intrinsic to our culture and understanding of human interaction. Most reasonable people see that chaos is not the venue in which we wish to live. They also abhor the acts which chaos spawns, i.e. Beheadings, et cetera.

There are a few common threads in all of these disputes worldwide. Culture is the most obvious difference between opposing groups. Religion plays a large part in most cultures and is a very contentious issue with the religiously inclined. Lack of economic opportunity is also endemic to these areas. Globalization and its unfortunate clash with older established cultural nuances is cause for strife. For many reasons they are trying to revolt and set up a new government in their image. Although the reasons are important to each conflict, the larger picture is more pertinent to why we should intervene.

The struggle before they win or lose is the most dangerous time for international security because during this time no one is immediately accountable for their actions. Crime and terrorism can run rampant. These conditions allow elements to use the conflict as a training and staging area for other conflicts thus breeding further destabilization.

A corollary to this aforementioned fact is that nations are loath to enter a situation that looks like a quagmire with no easy exit strategy. Europe is receding from international affairs to pursue diplomatic and economic modes of coercion to recalcitrant groups instead of force of arms. These conflicts are being extended beyond their natural or forced conclusion thus causing states that are prone to failure or stuck in a state of near perpetual civil war.

What should the US do? Should we follow an isolationist policy? Should we intervene in every conflict? If we intervene in only a few conflicts how do we decide which ones to get involved in? While these are important questions we have to remind ourselves that we are not the only people with the ability to aid.

The world, as a whole, needs to solve these problems. No one nation can do it alone. While I hope for this to happen I seriously doubt it will occur until after other western nations face devastating terrorist attacks.

They just do not feel the way America and many other coalition countries do about stopping terrorism and the destruction of nation states. They have forgotten that nation states were founded by men with weapons that protected their laws and way of life. These men were diplomats but also pragmatic with the application of force. Men like this are in short supply these days.

Intelligence Band-aids

2004-09-23T11:22:00.000+04:00

Intelligence reform: the mere mention of it causes me to shiver.

My initial reaction is to question the motive behind the bills and reforms put forward. My own biases lead me to immediately view any bill put forward on a politically charged subject as serving many purposes other than its stated intention (I am not referring to the practice of Pork barreling). Quite possibly being introduced for political gain or notoriety not philanthropic intent.

This would not particularly stand out except that I feel that in their ineffectual and insalubrious attempt to reform the system they are creating a new stratum of administration thereby threatening our national security.

Nations survive from the bottom up. Academic commission studies or new Cabinet-level posts and departments do not save countries in crisis. What saves’ them is social cohesion, and the awareness and common determination of citizens to protect their future. That provides them the ability to overcome the rage, loathing and dread that are terrorists' primary weapons.

Party politics and civic atrophy are endemic to our society and that has caused by default a weak national security policy(Just now in the last 3 years being rectified). Leaving the issue of responsible citizenship to another day and addressing the failure of congress is a battle I think can be won in the short term.

More bureaucracy. More red tape. Another cabinet level post. These are the things I see in the new proposal. It comes in the form of a new Director and sweeping changes in intelligence administration. Let us not forget the staff this post will require and the proposed new counter terrorism fusion center.

We already have 15 intelligence agencies (I propose a bill that would require the proposer of a bill on intelligence to understand the field in which they propose reform). The best intentions of an under qualified person can have a calamitous effect on the nation as a whole. It’s the helpful idiot paradigm.

This is not what will help intelligence reform. In this case their seemingly bold and adroit action will end up hampering intelligence in the short term and encumbering it for the long term with bureaucracy. The proverbial ball of yarn that represents intelligence reform has so many strings to pull that one scarcely knows where to start.

Does anyone honestly believe that by adding more bureaucratic steps to a process you get a more efficient flow of information? Has congress considered the fact that the largest flaws with intelligence prior to 9/11 were possibly politically inspired? Defense budgets, intelligence budgets, and the authority to act are directly tied to what a nation values at that moment.

The intelligence can suggest action by informing leaders of what is occurring or developing but cannot act without executive or legislative authority. The very ability to collect is tied to the hip of the politicians’ whims. The meager resources devoted to intelligence were inadequate to sift through the volume of threats. Is this a intelligence failure or a failure of congress to appropriately fund and autherize intelligence?

Look at what we could and could not do prior to 9/11 and it becomes apparent that our allowable actions were woefully inadequate to deal with the then burgeoning rebirth of radical terrorism. This is in part why we did not and could not know the true extent of Saddam’s weapon programs or lack there of. Why we can not currently pinpoint Usama Bin Laden.

Years of chipping away at our intelligence collection abilities combined with the senior political guidance of zero risk operations in support of national security had effectively made a once prominent and lauded capability a now defunct capability that was lucky to get an office in a basement closet. It is also an ability that takes time, effort, and dexterity to build.

America via her politicians was not willing to risk suffering a political gaffe to protect her own border and citizens from threats abroad. This is not surprising given the fact that America escaped the 1990’s relatively unharmed by non-state aggressors. The economy was in full swing and the political climate could be described with a phrase of the time,”PC”.

It would have been uncouth for us to have spies running around dealing with nefarious influences for any reason. If they get uncovered and our dirty laundry aired to the world it would be a political problem for the president and administration thus congress and the president curtailed a lot of intelligence collection(After Iran-Contra, fall of the wall, and soviet collapse).

The Clinton doctrine was being written and Americans were not concerned with their day-to-day safety. Therefore it is not surprising that budgets were cut for both military and intelligence, and the post Soviet peace dividend was actualized. The eventual outcome of this dividend was exacerbated by many phenomena. I will keep the focus of this thought on intelligence reform not any of the ancillary indictments I may have for the aforementioned time, politicians, or phenomena they caused.

Specifically the Intelligence reform needs to address proper staffing levels of existing agency’s, overlapping functions, hindrance via congressional oversight due to political infighting, increased authority of the director of central intelligence, delegation of authority, and the recreation of work environment that once again thinks out of the box and will go in the field. We need people who will take measured risks.

To some extent these aforementioned measures have already been put in place. It will take time for the fetid careerists that were born in the 90’s to either change or fall away, but progress is happening. With time and cultivation the American intelligence institution can be placed firmly on the right track.

The nomination of Porter Ross could portend a new reniassance for Ameerican intelligence. Mr. Ross has an excellent resume for the position. I feel his background working for the agency in the heady days of the 1960's will breathe fresh air into the managment of the agency. I hope he gets the chance to keep the position for more than a year and is not marginalized by any new congressional intelligence band-aids.

Running In A Blast Furnace

2004-09-23T04:13:00.000+04:00

I went for a jog yesterday. The air temperature was only 106, which felt great. A difference of 10 degrees makes a huge contribution to my energy level.

110 degrees Fahrenheit is hot. 120 degrees Fahrenheit is oppressively hot. Last month when it was about 5-10 degrees warmer I would jog and feel like I was literally in an oven. If you have ever opened an oven and felt the heat rise on your face; imagine the feeling of that heat across your whole body. The wind feels like a blast furnace.

I sweat whole quarts of water in just minutes of jogging. I actually look as if I have just stepped out of a shower after my jog. To dry off I need no towel because the air will wick away all the moisture in a matter of minutes if I stand still.

Though I was acclimatized to the temperature I couldn’t physically run very fast because of the stifling heat and glaring sun. Anything faster than a slow jog made me feel like I was going to die. Because of my schedule I usually jog in the early afternoon when there is no shade and the sun is near its zenith.

Yesterday was different because I felt a noticeable temperature difference. I felt as If I could breathe freely and the sun was not as brutal in cooking me as I ran. The cumulative effect made me feel energized for my jog. No longer enervated by the heat I was able to actually keep a good pace.

Listening to my Ipod as I ran. I would scan through the songs with my sweaty finger. My left hand held the Ipod and would manipulate the dial to select my preferred song of the moment. I have 2600 songs on the Ipod and I can now say I have listened to them all.

In my right hand is my sidearm. It is hard to keep a good grip on the pistol as I run because of the sweat. However it is worth the hand and forearm cramp to have that “insurance policy” with me as I run and I have gotten used to the feeling. With all the beheadings, kidnappings, and other unpleasantness I just do not feel comfortable without it when I jog. It also makes me think of Teddy Roosevelt’s “big stick” speech.

Sometimes I run with my rifle, though this is rare because if I am running with my rifle that means there is something seriously wrong with security and I am running with my body armor and helmet as well.

Strangely though; I feel even more comfortable with my rifle and armor than without it. Even with what it entails. I guess it’s knowing that I am prepared for the worst and will be able to fight that makes it feel better. Not having to rely on another’s benevolence or luck to insure my survival.

During my last deployment in Iraq I got caught unprepared once and it almost cost me my life. I was with a group and we were ambushed at night. All I had with me was my sidearm. My armor, helmet, and rifle were about 50 feet away, but could have been on the moon for all the good they did me.

I have heard the expression never bring a knife to a gunfight…well I had brought a handgun to a machinegun fight. That experience left a mark on me in the way I prepare and think about even seemingly safe situations. I count myself lucky to have learned that lesson.

I can picture the looks I would get if I were to be running back home with a gun in my hand. I have a mental picture of a woman with flowers in her hair looking at me in disgust and admonishing me for begetting violence (insert prototypical activist hippie here).

For them I suppose ignorance is bliss. However their underlying aversion to violence is natural but their stance of no violence is justified can be dangerous. No decent human being likes violence just as no one likes to take out the trash. It is part of life that we all try to avoid. The question is: if you refuse to do it for any reason can you live with the consequences?

Catch 22

2004-09-22T09:48:00.000+04:00

We all know that beheadings are grisly affairs but also are an increasingly common form of propaganda used by small bands of terrorist to greatly magnify their criminal threats and agenda. These ghastly videos bring the carnage and wreckage of guerilla warfare to the homes of people worldwide. The world conscience deplores these acts as barbaric and depraved. Yet they continue to occur with sickening frequency.

While the vast majority of the world cries for the cessation of these acts; the terrorist continue undeterred. How do we stop them? Can we stop them? What is the cost to stop them? Can we afford to not stop them? Do we stop the perpetrators or the enablers? Do we stop both? Et cetera.

I feel they have moved beyond the realm where negotiations or confinement, as a rehabilitater, will be effective in any way. That leaves me with the choice of whether I think it is better and justified to Kill them or whether it is not better or justified to kill them.

I feel it is justified to kill them because they are murderers and have demonstrated the intent to murder again at the earliest opportunity. (I also advocate against sending anyone but the most wanted terrorist to the international war crimes tribunal as it is an ineffective and exceedingly tedious forum even for someone whose guilt is overwhelming)

Whether or not it is better to kill them or to let them be is a very complex idea. If we let them be we do not inflame Arab opinion against us. “Crusaders & Zionists attacking the Arab freedom fighters” is the way some people will see any action we take against any Arab, even a murderer.

As a counter point if we do not act we entice the murderers to commit even bolder crimes with no fear of reprisal to give them pause. We also risk alienating any possible supporters in the Arab world for not acting to stop the terrorist/criminal acts.

This is a catch-22 situation in terms of world opinion. I feel we have a moral obligation, which supercedes fickle world opinion. We should pursue the terrorists/murderers even if we risk angering some Arabs. If we do this we may at the least offer a punitive reaction for their action. In an imperfect world the Roosevelt corollary to the Monroe doctrine combined with a little Wilsonian diplomacy is our best choice to confront terrorism. Translation: we should reach out and preemptively protect ourselves when necessary, but not to the exclusion of diplomatic means.

To achieve the best solution is to foster Arab and worldwide support for our counter-terror operations through all available means. Diplomatic, economic, and militaristic influence should be used in concert to aid or punish those who help or hurt the effort to rid the region of terrorism. We are doing this but we do not have the international support necessary to pursue terrorism worldwide in an effective and quasi-final manner.

The next administration obviously needs to address this issue and many more that confront the world. The war in Iraq has escalated and we need to be aware of the implications of leaving the job half done and the message it sends to terrorists.

The Phantom Editor

2004-09-21T04:45:00.000+04:00

Spell check. The very name describes but one function of the program. Most word processing programs have this option. It both helps and hurts writers.

As I type this it is checking the spelling of the words I type and making grammatical suggestions. It is also correcting the spelling of some without my consent or knowledge and perverting the grammar I have chosen. This is very irritating because re-reading the document and constantly searching for hidden changes is tedious.

This function may be a reason that our society is becoming grammatically challenged. When we rely on the program to fix our spelling and grammar we are not using or learning the grammar and thus cannot accurately recreate it or recognize when it is wrong.

I can’t be the first person to recognize this as a problem, and am wondering what the school systems are doing to counteract this problem as they move into a web-based classroom?

Say Goodbye To The Caliph

2004-09-20T00:39:00.000+04:00

The blog entry for September 20, 2004 in Iraq The Model is an interesting view point form an Arab mind. It is well worth the time to read.

On Rabid Woodsmen.

2004-09-19T08:21:00.000+04:00

Recently I read an article, “Understanding Islam” written by Mrs. Georgie Anne Geyers, a syndicated Washington columnist. I found the article interesting. She weaves a rich story of historical fact and opinion based on experience. I agreed with some of the conclusions of sources she quotes, but did not understand her references to viewing this conflict as, “outside of history” And “cosmic war.” She needs to further explain what she means by these amorphous comments.

I also did not agree with Georgie Ann Geyers conclusions because of how she came to them. She masks her view of the current prosecution of the war in the guise of a long-term end state. She describes the short-term actions taken as a misunderstanding due to impassioned response. She has an interesting viewpoint and the point has some merit.

She is right that our presence there causes more adherents to radical Islam, but she is wrong about why.

Her statement about taking back a city illustrates her lack of understanding of what is going on in the conflict thus putting her entire argument in a precariously moribund position. She implies that Coalition troops should not take back Fallujah and Ramadi.

Lets say you have a city. The city is taken over by rabid woodsmen. They kill the local police and National Guard. They start their own court system. “The Wood Council” now determines what is right, wrong, and punishable by death and torture.

Intimidation, corruption, and violence are now the social norms by which the woodsmen comport themselves.

Now this town exports not goods, products or workers, but rabid woodsman who chop at the walls of the surrounding cities. They chew through the walls and run rampant in the city committing atrocities and then flee back to their bastion of “The Wood council.”

This city refuses to abide by the commonly accepted decorum of behavior. They pose a threat to the citizens at large and the state as a whole. Whatever word you use to describe the actions to bring the woodsman back into the fold of civilization is unimportant. The fact that they must be brought back into the fold should not be a contentious debate.

Fallujah and Ramadi are proverbially full of rabid woodsman. By what means will she compel them to return to decency and lawfulness? Arcane meanderings of “this is not right” will not fix or address the problem. What solution does she advocate? She offers none.

I agree whole-heartedly that bombing civilians is not going to win the struggle. It’s a good thing that US forces are not doing that. People die everyday in bombings and this is a horrible by product of strife.

The US military explicitly does not target civilians and goes to extreme lengths to avoid any collateral damage or deaths. Unfortunately innocent people do get caught in the crossfire. Her disingenuous statement that US forces target civilians and innocents hurts her credibility in many ways. First it demonstrates her provincial access to facts. Second it estranges her from moderate readers, as this is a flagrant jab at US foreign policy.

The same discretion in targeting cannot be said for the rabid woodsman. They have tallied a body count far in excess of the military. Each day they kill and maim hundreds. They in fact choose to attack defenseless and weak people. Just a few days ago 30 Turkomen hostages were executed by their rabid woodsman captors. That seems pretty wanton and cruel to me. Today the woodsman killed over a hundred in a car bomb in Kirkuk. They have Killed hundreds in the last few days alone in Baghdad.

When you combine her opening rhetoric with her ending statement you are lead to the conclusion that the bombing referenced in the first paragraph is a manifestation of American power and callous disregard for civilian life which is a corollary for her greater indictment of the prosecution of the War in Iraq & Terror. Which she implies causes the problems we are trying to solve(This is complex and untrue but will take me a lot of text to explain..another day).

Basically she is stating because we only bomb civilians, we will lose, history shows we can/will lose, and if we change tactics now we may salvage a long-term win.

The linkage of the bombing of civilians by US forces, which is highly partisan and inaccurate, to her conclusion is scholastically underhanded and indicative of a sophomoric approach to journalism.

She does raise good points but undermines herself with the factually inaccurate pillars on which she bases her argument. I feel that the informed reader will debunk her short sighted and ribaldrous opening comments.

I have a handful of question for her. How does she propose to renew Islam? How long do we have to wait for this to happen? How many deaths is it before the wait becomes to long? With out outside help will it ever renew? Why should we calmly accept the aggression of these few that impinge upon our right to pursue happiness and liberty at home?

The bottom line: Do you fight back against the rabid woodsmen or do you hope they develop a conscience? We can mind our own business all day long, but that will not deter the extremists. There are too many examples in history and presently to continue thinking that terrorism will reform itself.

Diplomatic Tango... Anyone?

2004-09-18T07:43:00.000+04:00

My previous post could lead someone to believe that I support Bush for President. I would like to point out the policies of Bush I find reproachable. There are many counter arguments to the points I am about to raise, but I do not have time to rebut or address them all, so I will not try.

Bush’s stand on environmental issues is horrid. His environmental record is the worst of any modern day president. Bush backed out of several important treaties exemplified by the Kyoto protocol, and 1972 anti-Ballistic missile treaties. His stand on Gay marriage and abortion are extremely parochial and unfair. I think his domestic agenda is horribly jilted towards big government. The Patriot act is the single largest infringement of civil liberties in recent memory. Lets not forget his inept public speaking ability is ridiculed worldwide.

However. When he tells a foreign leader do something or else. They take his words very seriously. There is no diplomatic double speak coming from his lips. While this tactic is obviously not diplomatic it does get short-term results. The short-term result is American security.

People say Iraq has not made us safer. The answer is complex, but basically I feel it has made us safer.

The foreign terrorists we now fight are looking to do Jihad. They want to die. If we don’t fight them here they will change targets. Students overseas, tourists, and US citizen will be their target more frequently worldwide. If they could, they would attack US soil.

They have trouble doing so because we are taking the fight to them. We are offering them the chance to attack Americans in Iraq and Afghanistan…soldiers…who are armed, trained, and ready for the attack (offering = close proximity too). We are trying to build a society here that will not support terrorism or any of its root ideologies.

Its messy, brutal, and at times seems counter productive to American security. However it allows two things to happen.

US Armed forces build a country and they fight terrorism. When and if we succeed in these two symbiotic goals the long-term goal will have been achieved; a Middle East that doesn’t export terrorism and has democracy.

As we saw in the Balkans Europe (I am referring to “Old Europe”,
France, Spain, & Germany) is unwilling and unable to mount a defense of their own continent or stop ethnic cleansing. There are many reasons for this and I suggest you read Power and Weakness by Robert Kagan if you want to know why.

Can we really expect a diplomatic approach for larger coalition building for an armed conflict? Can we jump through all the hops necessary to appease their self important and inflated sense of diplomatic hegemony? Should we?

Sorry ladies and gents but diplomacy doesn’t work with terrorist. Time waits for no one. Waiting around will only strengthen and embolden terrorism. Waiting to do the diplomatic tango would be at the cost the American security. Worse yet, Europe will probably not agree to help in any tangible way thus we will have wasted time, money, and lives for nothing.

I choose the candidate based upon a single issue, which I feel supercedes the important, but lesser issues confronting our society. We can correct many things in our own borders, but if we don’t protect those borders we will have little time to enjoy debating the right domestic agenda.

I choose the lesser of two evils for president because one of them can be trusted with safe guarding America from the terrorist hordes.

Kerry = Coward

2004-09-17T08:06:00.001+04:00

Senator John Kerry's recent campaign AD is extremely offensive. The AD depicts a US soldier walking through a bog with rifle overhead as if he were surrendering. One of the inferred themes of this Ad is that the soldier is weak. Another inferred them is that the soldier will quit or give up. I was surprised and hurt by the AD. I truely expected better of a former veteran.

If the senator were standing in front of me today I would refuse to even utter a word in his direction. As much as I would love to slap him in the face for this incredible insult to the US armed forces, I will not even dignify his existence on this earth by doing so.

If I could talk to a staffer of his I would ask them to tell the senator a message from the troops. “Do not stick your own cowardice and baggage on the backs of this generation.” I would rather die than surrender; and to say or infer anything less is tantamount to a treasonous strike from behind. I know not a single person here who would surrender. When you leave home with your shield, you come home carrying it or you come home on it.

Suicide...Why?

2004-09-16T08:33:00.000+04:00

I remember the last time I saw him. A whole bunch of us were having some cold beers at a local Pub. He was with his mother, father, brother, and girlfriend. It was a great night and everyone had a really good time.

It’s such a tragic waste. No words of mine could possibly assuage the anguish and bereavement they must feel. A Paupers prose is all I can offer. Remorseful in remembrance. I must confess I don’t understand why.

I guess that there are some very hard experiences in life that humans will never be able to comprehend or put into a rational and comfortable light for reflection.

2004-09-15T13:00:00.000+04:00

A friend of mine commit suicide today. May he rest in peace.

2004-09-15T10:11:00.000+04:00

The Beautiful Imam Ali Mosque

2004-09-15T08:55:00.000+04:00

Scenic Baghdad

When Lightning Strikes...

2004-09-15T08:15:00.000+04:00

Pat, a friend of mine told me a story yesterday that sums up the feeling of most of the people I am with. A few days ago one of the rockets fired at the hotels in downtown Baghdad struck in a unique manner. The rocket struck a truck that was moving at 40 miles an hour down a road. 14-foot tall concrete barriers divide the road lanes and line the shoulder.

The truck was carrying fuel in large steel cylindrical tanks. The rocket struck the cargo bed of the truck and blew tanks everywhere. One tank flew over the concrete barrier. At the same time a van was traveling at 40 miles an hour in the opposite lane in the opposite direction on the opposite side of a barrier. The tank that was blown over the wall completely crushed the van.

The odds of that happening are extremely slim to say the least. When he told me this, we all agreed when it’s your time... it’s your time.

That statement certainly was true for the occupants of that van. The van and the tank are now a sickly attractive photograph on the side of the road. Military tourists and civilians alike want to see the wreckage of this quasi-infamous and semi-depressing event. Although the emotion is hidden with laughter, everyone realizes this could have been them. Because when it's your time...

Feral Dogs & Dingo's

2004-09-15T06:07:00.000+04:00

While walking across camp last night I was harassed by a pack of wild dogs. This is not uncommon because there seem to be an endless supply of feral dogs. During the night hours they grow bold and aggressive.

I made decision that if the dogs got too close, looked like they would bite, or did anything other than bark I would kill them. I drew my pistol, which already had a round chambered with a clip of 14 rounds and kept walking.

Having absolutely no hard feelings for the dogs and also having the ability to kill them without regret made me mentally pause and reflect.

Almost ten years ago I was a teenager in the Australian Outback. There are many small towns in Queens land. I do not recall the name of this one in particular.

The weather was hot and humid. The sun had set and my fellow travelers and I had camped in a drying sand riverbed surrounded by stones. The reason to choose a camp with stones surrounding it is to limit the risk that a crocodile will decide that you are a dinner that’s worth a trip over the rocks.

I drew the short straw and had to walk to the Liquor store for “supplies”. The walk was about 3 kilometers through the riverbed and up the dirt road through a grass plain followed by the store located in a forest. Since it was so warm I was only wearing cutoff shorts and sandals.

The walk to the store was uneventful. I purchased the supplies and started my walk back heavily laden with liquid courage.

As I was walking from a Liquor store back to the campsite, which my fellow travelers and I inhabited, I felt the hair on the back of my neck start to stand up.

Stopping in the road and turning to survey the surrounding forest I saw flickering movement in the shadows on both sides of the road. Sounds came out of the forest but I dismissed both the sight and sound to my imagination since they were both on the very edge of human perceptibility.

As I exited the forest and walked into the grass plain I felt the eyes even more strongly and was now hearing the crunching of footfalls on all sides. Stopping again I peered into the grass and by moonlight saw many sets of glowing orbs stare back.

The grass plain was several kilometers wide and the grass its self was between 6 and 10 feet tall; thicker than a cornfield. Sweating profusely from the exertion of carrying the supplies, I cursed. Being several kilometers from camp, alone, unarmed, and surrounded by hungry Dingo’s was not what I had in mind when I had drawn the short straw.

I continued walking to camp albeit quite faster than before. Every hundred feet or so I would turn and look behind me. Scanning the grass constantly was draining mentally. The supplies seemed made of lead.

The feeling I remember most vividly was anger. I was angry at the Dingo’s. Why? I can only speculate now with ten years between the event and me.

I wanted to put the supplies down and wait for the Dingo’s. There harassment was irritating. I also was looking for conflict. Looking for the machismo of manhood. Had I a gun then, I would have shot all the Dingo’s and been proud of it.

Here I am ten years later with a closer more rabid threat and I am willing to practice a policy of live and let live. However once I decide to use force the escalation will be severe and final. There is nothing macho about defending yourself. It is a necessary part of survival and as such is not something to be ashamed about. Keeping that in mind though, it is also not something to be overly proud of either.

Smite, Smote, Smitten!!!

2004-09-14T11:18:00.000+04:00

We got pelted with Mortars again today. No big deal though. There were numerous car bombs in the last few days. No big deal. They are ineffectual and turning the Iraq populations sentiments further and further away from the extremists point of view.

The only thing worse than the deaths and injuries caused by these incidents is the media reporting coming from these incidents. It is appalling the way the media has reported on these incident. If I could smite people with lightning there would be pockmarks and smoking holes in every newsroom the world over and Al Jezeera would be a crater so deep no light would ever escape.

I have meet their field correspondents a handful of times and talked in a semi-cordial manner. After this recent period of depraved reporting I will never speak to anyone claiming that affiliation again.

Al Jezeera would have you believe that US soldiers target only ambulances, women, children, and Doctors. They out right said that we killed only innocents on Haifa Street for waving a flag and dancing.

Well I can tell you first had that that is not true, and that reporter that died their had lost all claim to neutrality when he associated and participated in an enormous gun battle. Where was the reporting of the insurgent and Islamic extremists shooting thousands of rounds of ammunition? Where was the reporting of the suicidal car bomber that hit our Bradley fighting vehicle, thus starting their attempted ambush? Where was the reporting of the young men (12-18yrs) that were throwing grenades? Shooting RPG’s. Firing rifles? They were not innocent. They were not Neutral.

I ask all Arab media this question. Why have you not reported on the atrocities committed in Muktada Al Sadr’s Sha’ria court? Men, women, and children were butchered there. Police officers and government officials were tortured and killed in the dozens. People whose only crime was to speak against Sadr.

They were all tried and convicted in Sadr’s name. There are hundreds of bodies. All bear the marks of horrendous and unspeakable torture. Some were skinned alive. Some had their joints drilled out with a power drill before they were beheaded. Some had their eyes and ears drilled out. Arms and legs cutoff. Men emasculated and forced to eat their own flesh. All ages and sex’s raped. The list goes on and has made me puke. This was ALL committed with Sadr’s approval and in his name. His militia committed these crimes against humanity. These crimes were all committed against Muslim Arabs and Al Jezeera says nothing.

The only mention of it is in an attempt to blame the US forces for these acts. The citizens of Najaf hate Sadr. Najaf’s residents blame Sadr for the problems in infrastructure and employment that now plague them. If anything; the citizens are angry that the US forces did not kill Sadr.

Sadr is no Iraqi Hero leading the fight for all Muslims against the infidel Crusading Americans. There is no word in any language that I know of that could adequately curse or describe a man of such horrible and depraved character. The Media that turns its blind eye to these abhorrent acts is no better than the people who commit them.

What Ever Happened to Richard Attenborough?

2004-09-13T07:01:00.000+04:00

Yesterday, I had some time off between mortar attacks and various lugubrious events happening in Baghdad. I was sitting outside having lunch and watching birds search for food in a drying marsh. It made me think of two things.

First it made me think of my dad and his love of knowledge and interest in ornithology. How he built birdhouses so we would have a veritable cornucopia of birds in our backyard. I had never really thought about it or appreciated it until now.

Being unable to name a single bird I was watching was embarrassing. Sure I knew some were cranes but beyond that I had no idea. What are the birds’ migratory patterns? Where do they nest? What is a group called?

The second thought was what ever happened to Richard Attenborough? Saturday and Sunday when I was a little boy my family used to go sailing on Lake Michigan after which we usually would have a family dinner and watch TV. Nova and National geographic were the two most frequent TV shows.

Richard Attenborough was the voice and sometimes the face of the narrator. I can imagine him explaining to me right now in Iraq, as if I were the TV audience, what these birds were, where they come from, where they are going, and how they are ecologically relevant. The thought made me laugh as I finished my MRE (Meal Ready to Eat).

While mulling over which end of the pound cake to take a bite out of, my thoughts drifted to my time in Australia and Fiji. Thinking of Attenborough and the outdoors reminds we of my adventurous sojourn in the Australian Outback and Fijian islands.

Warm memories flood through my conscience. They meander from climbing the steep walls of Katherine’s’ Gorge and leaping into the river below to swimming with crocodiles in numerous billabongs. Finding deadly snakes in my sleeping bag to hunting boar with a knife and a spear. Offroading through the Australian desert to crossing flood ravaged rivers. Surfing in the Indian Ocean to diving on the Great Barrier Reef. Horse back riding with ranchers in the Flinders and Snowy Mountains to attempting conversation with Aboriginals. Building a school in the Nasori highlands to walking the markets of Nandi. One memory stands out from the rest. Recalling one of my last days in Fiji, on the island of Suva Levu makes me smile.

Waking early before sunrise I intended to watch the sunrise over the pacific. The island I now inhabited was only a few square miles in size and was dominated by its most prominent feature. A huge granite butte that rose several hundred meters above the shore and tropical forest. Ringed by tropical flora and fauna it was a steep winding climb to the top. During daylight hours it is a several hour trip. Without a villager to guide you it could be a daylong trip with no summit.

I had made the trip numerous times and knew the path well enough that I felt confident doing it alone and in the dark. The small village I was living in was a small speck of light below me as I climbed up into the darkness.

A precarious path on the south face reaches the summit once you have navigated the tropical forests' pathways. There are many deep ravines that lead to sheer cliff faces or dead ends so I was careful to insure I was on the correct path. Summiting just as nautical twighlight was coming was a goal and I made it just in time.

This is the time when some light is reflected via the waters surface and atmosphere and gives you a false dawn before actual sunrise.

I vividly recall sitting up on this granite precipice watching the sunrise over the horizon. The light played over the water and silhouetted the archipelago before me. This is the pacific at dawn. The breeze blew back my hair and made me shiver.

I was only wearing cutoff khaki shorts. No shirt, no shoes. It was a small price to pay to have the suns warmth heat me as it rose. I must have sat up there for two hours just enjoying the view and contemplating the future, the past, and what it meant to me.

The walk down was a breeze and I made it to the village for a breakfast of fresh casaba root, kava, and prawn. I watched the sunrise everyday till I left Suva Levu.

My mother once said she did not understand why she was blessed with children who enjoyed travel so much. I think the answer is the way we were brought up. We grew up watching and learning about the world. Then as we matured we were seasoned with international travel and education. This freed us from the constraints of a McLife. Thank you Mom & Dad. You have given us the best gift possible.

Russian Ark

2004-09-13T05:09:00.000+04:00

I recently stumbled upon a DVD. I don’t know how it came to be in Iraq but am glad it did. It is a movie made by Russian director Alexander Sokurov. The film is titled Russian Ark. This film is an amazing menagerie of Russian history and art. It was also the only film I have ever seen or heard of that is one long continuous take. It was filmed entirely in the Hermitage with various period costuming. Unfortunately I watched it with Arabic subtitles and Arabic English voice over but I look forward to viewing it again at home in an easier to understand form. I seriously recommend this film to any one interested in art, history or Russian culture.

2004-09-12T10:18:00.000+04:00

"Your my boy Blue!"

Cake or the Muslim Brotherhood?

2004-09-12T09:35:00.000+04:00

The Muslim brotherhood
is one of the greatest threats to Western, American, and in fact any non-middle Eastern culture. There stated goal is the establishment of a worldwide state that follows pan-Arab culture, values, and laws. They permeate American society yet most Americans have never heard of them. They invade and occupy our college campus’s using our own open society as recruiting tools to espouse their counter-American rhetoric. I support their right to free speech, press and association. I also think that the American conscience should be intimately aware of their existence and purpose.

I now remember a classmate of mine while I was in College who was from Pakistan. Omar was a devote Muslim and a good friend of mine. He loved America, and enjoyed its benefits. However when we would discuss politics we would inevitably disagree. Specifically we disagreed in our views of foreign policy and American intervention in world policy and politics (I do not want to bore you with the details of these discussions, but they generally broke down to arguments of religion and percieved American injustice).

I now see his ideas for what they are. He has a stronger tie to his ethnic homeland which he has only visited a few times during his life, and which he has no wish to live in, than he does to his country of birth, America.

His beliefs in tradition Muslim values and his tacit support for the Muslim brotherhood should have constituted a crisis of ideas for him, but they didn’t (Tacit support and its line of thought and argumentation is very relevant to this issue, but I do not want to tackle this issue here). His support for the Muslim cause over his own Nations cause should have caused a crisis of faith, but it did not.

Whether he did not wish to examine too closely the very ideas by which he defined himself or whether he did not understand the implications of his rhetoric is irrelevant at this point.

What he and all the others with a similar worldview should ponder is what happens if they win; if they get their perfect Muslim society. Thier tacit support, by any means, implicitly states that this is in fact what they wish.

Western ideas, and ways of life will be eradicated. In its stead will be a society devoid of the privileges and freedoms they take for granted. In the end they need to ask themselves am I an American, or am I a, “insert country or ethnicity here”?

We were founded by immigrants who had forsaken their country of birth to come to a new land in search of freedom. Though we have evolved and moved on all one needs to do is read the inscription at the base of the Statue of Liberty to renew their faith in a common goal and good in America.

I think they should respect their ethnic heritage and embrace it. It is after all a part of who they are. However they need to temper this with the notion that their current freedoms and opportunities are a direct result of American ideas, not the ideas of a foreign nation or a Muslim nation. What do they really want? At the end of the day what do you stand for? You cannot have your cake and eat it too.

P.S. For a poingnant perspective on what the Muslim Brotherhood supports read Iraq the Model. The entry for September 11th is an extraordianry snapshot of what a true Arab and muslim feels as opposed to the acts a Muslim Brotherhood supported group commits.

2004-09-12T09:30:00.000+04:00

A soldiers tribute

How great ideas go awry

2004-09-12T05:29:00.000+04:00

Here I am sitting on a roof top patio in downtown Baghdad listening to Southern Cross by CSN&Y and drinking a cold beer. It’s 2:30 in the morning and I just got back to the house. I had driven back to the house alone again. A nighttime drive through Baghdad alone is an interesting experience. Being in an armored car has its drawbacks. You can’t shoot back which means you are damn near inviting someone to shoot at you and they don’t just shoot bullets; which worries me.

I had been living with a “group of people” that do “stuff”. The eclectic music is being DJ’ed by a friend of mine named ”Mike”. He is a veteran of Both Afghanistan and Iraq. Having done lots of “Stuff” I had a good deal of respect for his professional opinion and point of view.

Most nights you could count on a few of us being up on that patio and having a few cold ones to relax and chat. Sometimes we talked politics’; sometimes what we where going to do when we came home. From that patio you had a view of the surrounding neighborhood in downtown Baghdad. The patio itself was the brainchild of “Mike”. He wanted a place to relax and just hang out.

So one day we got some plywood and built a Tiki bar, painted it, and then collect palm fronds to adorn the roof. The hut and Patio looked like it belonged in the Caribbean or to a rustic Bali village (the reference to Bali really fits since they get bombed too).

I will always have fond memories of that House, the patio bar, my friends who do “stuff”, and the time spent on the rooftop. It was a great time and there was never a dull moment. Watching the fireworks in the night sky was awe-inspiring.
The house had belonged to one of Saddams favored Ba’athist before the war. The house had two pools. One was indoors and one was outdoors. The outdoor pool was large enough to swim laps in without feeling too cramped.

Between doing stuff, I would sometimes drift in the pool on a rubber raft and watch helicopters pass overhead. They would buzz around at high speed in an aerial ballet. I always thought they were sort of similar to dragonflies armed with hellfire missiles.

The name “hellfire missiles” always makes me chuckle. I can picture Mt. Sinai, a proclamation by Charleston Hesston in a white flowing robe, and a thunderous and ethereal voice; spaking, ” Thus I give you Hellfire!”

Honestly. Who names a missile hellfire? This is really ironic considering the fact that we are trying not to be labeled crusaders. There are so many things in life that make me step back and laugh.

Swishing my hands and feet in the water while hearing rockets and mortars detonate is a unique experience. The two senses are picking up stimuli and being processed in the brain. My brain tells me. Water, good. Explosion, bad. Not quite cognitive dissonance but damn close.

The jagged difference a few hundred meters can make in a life’s experience was an overwhelming thought. The palm trees rattled with the force of the blasts; punctuating these explosions.

I devised a rudimentary and comical scale to determine blasts intensity. I based the scale on how many Dates fell from the Palms. Though this is not the most scientific method it was incredibly humorous in an otherwise ugly setting.

A 2 date bomb meant that whatever had blown up was both far away and huge or nearby and small. A 3 date bomb was an order of magnitude greater than a 2 date bomb, et cetera.

After about 7-8 dates, the date bomb scale lost its immediate relevance because the blast was either so large or so close that I needed to seek cover from falling debris, not count how many dates fell off the palm trees.

Thinking of my lazy days in the pool makes me smile. They also remind me of my last tour in Iraq.

I had just flown into Ras Al Quliyah, Kuwait a few days earlier. I was still all charged up with excitement and the excess energy you have after you leave a combat zone. So I had been working out like a madman and after one such workout I had decided to take dip in the pool at Kuwaiti Naval Base.

Now this is not just any pool. This is the Kuwaiti national Olympic training center. The pool I choose to swim in was the outdoor 10-meter pool. The pool was quite deep and had several diving platforms and was always cool and refreshing compared to the hot desert air.

The night air was warm and I had thick sheen of sweat from running laps at the track. As it was after midnight I had the pool to my self and all the lights of the training center were off. I kicked my shoes off and dove in. Floating around on my back for a few moments was refreshing and relaxing. Then my eyes focused on the 10-meter platform. I started to smile.

Wouldn’t it be fun to jump off the platform? As I was climbing the stairs to the top of the platform I realized that the view from up there was amazing. I could see the oil refineries in the distant desert like tiny torches on the horizon burping the excess gasses of oil production. I could feel the Shamal wind unrestrained from the desert.

When I reached the top I stood there and looked out to sea. Although I couldn’t see the ships I imagined what they were doing that very moment. Buzzing with activity and purpose.

As I looked north toward Iraq I gazed inward and thought of the sweet sorrow of combat and how it had changed me. It made me think of the duality of man and the human condition. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the solitude, shivering as the wind caressed my dripping form. Shivering not just because of the wind.

Opening my eyes I walked forward to the edge of the platform. Looks a lot different from the top of the platform. Without thought I jumped off. The rush of air and adrenaline was gratifying. The slap of the water should have been edifying.

I plunged deep into the cool water feet first. Floating slowly towards the surface in peace for a moment, suspended in silence and solitude. There is nothing quite so relaxing as floating in cool water. I stroked to the side of the pool and climbed out while wondering about the next jump.

If I rotate just so, I should be able to do a full rotation and still land feet first. After mulling over the finer points of my plan I was now standing on the platform again.

My heart was beating heavy enough that I could hear it in my ears. Just do it. Don’t be a wuss. Seems like evil dangerous me had made an appearance and was now taking the reins. I remember think of Virgil’s Aeneid, ”Fortune favors the brave.”

With two quick steps I dove off the platform. Arching my back and extending my arms and legs I rotated in a slow layout. The smack of the water on my feet was relieving. I had done it. I had not tucked. I had done a full layout. I patted my self on the back and proceeded to do several more. Then I came up with the great idea of doing a double.

I will remember this moment for the rest of my life. Standing on the top of the platform. I could feel the wind blow past every fiber of my body. My hair was standing on end partly due to the chill of the wind and partly out of fear. With a quickly uttered expletive I dove off the end of the platform. Every sinew of my body taught, blood quickly coursing through my veins, utterly focusing on my spacial movments.

Mind you it is a dark night, the lights are all off and looking down off the platform is like staring into an abyss. The distance to the water is hard to judge; the depth impossible.

I was rotating slightly faster as I fell towards the water. As I was midway through my second rotation I looked over my shoulder. Oh shit, I am not going to make it!

Time slowed to a crawl. I am going to hit the water in less then a second. I am totally parallel to its surface and only 2-3 feet from impact. This is going to hurt really really bad. Yes this was a bad idea. I am probably going to pass out. I need to get to the side of the pool before I pass out. There is no one here to help me.

There was a blinding light and pain as I hit the water at what felt like terminal velocity. Can’t breath. Must get to side. Stroke, stroke, stroke. I was on fire. I reached the edge of the pool and was able to pull my upper body onto the side of the pool.

I just lay there unable to move or breathe for an eternity. I never made a sound that I recall. I was just overcome with sensation, and was paralyzed with pain. Focusing on breathing and not falling back into the pool had my undivided attention.

Slowly my breathing returned to normal, but the pain did not recede as quickly as I would have liked. After a while of laying there I noticed I was still half in the pool. My left knee and upper torso were on the tile at the side of the pool, but my right leg was still dangling in the pool.

I pictured myself looking like some discarded rag doll that was haphazardly thrown where I lay.

I rolled over to get my leg out of the pool. Ouch, bad idea. My back was not ready to have me lie on it yet. Experimenting with several positions to get comfortable I eventually gave up on comfort and stood. It hurt the least. Looking up at the platform, I thought about what I had just done.

Good god I am a moron. Swimming in a pool in the dark. Jumping off the 10-meter board. Then doing layout flips! I am going to file this away as a box checked off in my to do list of life; and not repeat it again. It was a 4-mile jog back to camp and I laughed the whole way.

I wish I had a videotape of those 20 minutes of my life. It would be titled, “How great Idea’s go wrong.” I still smile and laugh when I think of that night.

9-11

2004-09-11T10:15:00.000+04:00

I am going to take some time today and reflect on the events of 9/11. I was recently referred to a book written by Oriana Fallaci.
I was immediately attracted to the content of her writing. I would recommend this book to anyone looking for a European perspective on the war on Terrorism and the greater implications for the western world.

My 25th Birthday

2004-09-11T08:56:00.000+04:00

Birthdays are an important date to most people. I spent my 25th birthday lying on a dusty landing pad in Baghdad. I was waiting for a Helicopter to pick me up and take me to another part of the city.

I had on my desert camouflage uniform, body armor, and was listening to my trusty Ipod. My rifle was propped up next to my right shoulder leaning on the bag I had packed that was now being used as an impromptu lazy boy. My pistol was tucked into its holster on my chest. I put it there so instead of on my leg so I wouldn’t catch it on anything as I got in and out of humvees. And my helmet was underneath my left elbow serving as an armrest of sorts.

The far western side of Baghdad was really dark that night. I could see all the stars in the cloudless night sky. Covered in sweat again, but that’s normal here. When it trickles into my eyes is really the only time I notice. We all just get used to it being hot over here.

I was thinking about what I had done for my previous birthdays. Where I had been and whom I was with. 2 years ago I was at my older sisters wedding. Seven years ago I was at My High school graduation. Nine years ago I was finishing my last day of my sophomore year in highschool and packing to go to Australia.

If you had asked me nine years ago if I ever thought I would be in the military I would have laughed. If you had asked me if we would be in a global war I would not have hesitated before I questioned the sanity of the person asking.

Now here I am lying in the dust of a foreign land. Lying placidly in Iraqi dust. I am in the military and I am at war. Life takes some crazy turns.

I could hear the distant thump, thump, thump of mortars being launched. Sounded like they weren’t launched from too far away. Probably 60’s or 82’s. They don’t launch 120’s very often and I would have heard a hiss if it were a rocket.

I muted my Ipod and strained for any sound of them as they hopefully passed overhead. Nothing. Nothing. Then I heard and felt the percussion of their impact. They had over shot my position and landed probably a good kilometer behind me. I probably should have found cover. But this happens so often that I didn’t feel like getting up, even though I had a few pebbles digging holes in my butt, and my legs were numb from where the body armor cuts off circulation when I sit down. I was content to just sit there and daydream.

I turned my Ipod back on and thought about what could happen on the helo ride. What would happen if we got shot down? What would happen if the helo had a mechanical malfunction? What if I lived through the crash? What if I didn’t? What if I lost a limb? I lay there in the dust for 4 hours waiting. There were several mortar, rocket and small arms attacks. I was sitting in the dust listening to my Ipod through it all. Waiting for my ride.

It reminded me of waiting at the bus stop when I was in grade school. Except, as a child the path to the bus stop was fraught with dangerous villains and I was Robin Hood. There was a forest behind my childhood home. I would run around and play in it and on “the hill”, for hours a day. Come rain or snow I was outside having adventures and traipsing through the imaginary world I created in the forest. Though I did not have a friend like Calvin does with Hobbes, I made due with other neighborhood kids.

In the summer we would run around and beat each other with sticks. This is what we called “sword fighting”. If the weed trees didn’t grow that summer or were clear-cut by the state, then our precious lumber for forging our chosen implements of bludgery were denied us and we would come up with a new game.

We had toy guns we could play with, though this was not as much fun as hitting people with sticks. Playing “guns” was an art form. To get the correct staccato sound of firing your toy gun would require hours of practice and a lots of spit.
Then there was the stalk. Sneaking up on your opponent so you could unleash the fury of the weapon, thereby vanquishing him.

This is great in practice but did not work as planned. When I would sneak up on my opponents and fire, they never would act wounded or die, or abide by the rules. This would degenerate into an argument and then end up with us pummeling each other with our bare hands for “cheating”.

The battery for my Ipod is getting low. Do you know how many steps it takes to get an Ipod charged in Iraq? First you have to find an outlet that works. Then you have to acquire a transformer that steps 240v down to 120v. Finding a multiple socket extension is easy, but they are all European and international sockets. So tracking down an adapter from a,” Hajji”, plug to an American plug is the easily forgotten and over looked task. Now you can plug it in and watch the proverbial grass grow as the Ipod attains life. Unless the power goes out or surges; and melts the Ipod into a puddle of post modern stupidity.

There are two lynx’s that roam around this Helo pad. They are mainly nocturnal and thus far have not attacked anyone. There were two Tigers here when I was here last year. They are gone now. I was told that an overzealous and under educated army guy had his arms torn off when he tried to pet one. Though sad, I couldn't help but laugh when the story was told. Actually sounded like something I might try. Then again maybe not.

They do tend to spook people when they are spotted. This is probably because they’re a large predatory cat; and just WTF are they doing here in the first place?

I wonder if they attacked me would I hear them approach? How much would it hurt when they bit me? Would they bite my neck going for my jugular? If I punched one in the face could I knock it out? How would PETA feel? Would they tell me to take off my body armor because it might hurt the cat’s teeth when it tried to disembowel me? I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at this line of thought. Wow, I need to brush my teeth, I can feel the dust on them.

Making me laugh even harder was the memory of me lighting a trash pit with a thermite grenade. So, no shit there I was... It was one o'clock in the morning in Baghdad,120 degrees, and I had my shirt tied around my head like a pirates skull cap.

I had been having a grand time burning our excess maps and classified material with the aid of my trusty JP-8 fuel. This is Jet fuel. It burns very hot and fast. It go bang big!

I had been pouring the jet fuel into water bottles and hurling them in the fire. This is a great form of entertainment.

Rob, a friend of mine walked over and asked what I was doing? I had my shirt off, was sweating profusely, and had charcoal smeared haphazardly across my chest from wear my fire poker had splattered me with charcoal dust. I replied,” I am just reenacting a scene from lord of the flies.”

Rob said,” Okay, Cool. I got a grenade, do you want to throw it in the fire?” I was like; sure dude.

So I pulled the pin on the thermite grenade and delicately dropped it into the center of the fire. I was careful to make sure it landed in a small hollow so it would not roll out of the fire. A few seconds went by and then it went off.

We only retreated about 15-20 feet from the fire. The grenade burned and sent a neat stream of super hot sparks up into the air and into the surrounding fire. We couldn’t help but laugh and smile at the sight. FYI. Thermite burns at over 1800 degrees. It was all very surreal with the sparks, shadows, night sky, and myself standing with a scepter(fire poker was a 6ft legth of steel tube packed with dirt) before a large mural.

At this point I decided it was a good idea to throw the whole can of jet fuel into the fire while capped.

We hauled ass to a safe distance of 35 feet. And waited, and waited. Then whoosh! The fire had melted the cap off.

What was supposed to be a nice little fuel air explosive that would detonate in the fire pit was now an airborne missile (pronounced miss-aisle). It was only a fraction of a second, but it seemed like an eternity.

The quasi-missile struck the wall directly next to where we had taken refuge. Spraying burning jet fuel everywhere. It was quite a loud explosion and sent out a good concussive blast.

The wall was actually a mural of Saddam, one of the last in Iraq. Now it was on fire with jet fuel dripping fire droplets onto the ground next to me.

A bunch of the guys came out with their armor and helmets on and asked where the mortar or rocket landed and why were we just standing there laughing like morons?

They walked away after they surmised what had happened. We were unable to utter a word because we were laughing so hard. Rob and I couldn’t stop laughing about that incident for weeks. Rob is gone now; he went home.

Damn my Ipod only has about 30 minutes of juice left. Is this chopper going to come tonight? Between the heat, mortars, rockets, predatory cats, and my own occasional stupidity, being in a helicopter crash really doesn’t rank very high on my own list of mortal threats.

I can’t help but recall a quote from Shakespeare, "Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard. It seems to me most strange that men should fear, Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come."

Who the hell quotes Shakespeare in Iraq? No. That is not the right question. Who the hell has an internal monologue that could be appropriately called a soliloquy? I can’t help but shake my head and laugh again.

I can’t help but look up to the stars and wonder.

Ant Explained

2004-09-10T06:36:00.000+04:00

I am Ant, was written after I noticed that everyday I walk out of my room in the Palace and step on these little black ants as they struggle to find food. They come and go through an old black plumbing tube in the corner of the hall outside my room. They are a stark contrast to the White marble tile of the floor. The works of Orwell , Kafka, and Szymczyk inspired it's writing... with the aid of chloroquine( anti-malarial medicine) enhanced dreams

2004-09-10T06:34:00.000+04:00

Orkney Islands

Journalistic Integrity & A Citizen's Responsibility

2004-09-10T04:59:00.000+04:00

I keep fairly well informed on what is going on in the world because of my job. Over the last few months I have read thousands of articles on world events and have been trying to keep abreast of the on going political debate back home.

I have been expressing my rage at the more liberal (I am only trying to describe the elements; not insult nor pigeonhole them) of publications with out directly indicting them for intellectual dishonesty and pandering to the warm and fuzzy worldview which disregards the moral and ethical implications of their ill-advised positions. While I empathize with their points and feelings, I feel that they are unwilling to come to grips with the harsher realities we face.

Ignorance of the relevant issues due to blinkered, and close-minded acquisition of subjective facts can be incredibly destructive to society. Especially when the group tends to be flamboyant and outspoken about many issues, and ironically enough, more willing to stage often-violent protests than calm discourse. Thus my frequent solitary soliloquies lead me to write my view on Beslan and its personification of and relevance to the greater war on terror and the following entries in my blog..

My greatest regret is that I have felt strongly about this for quite some time but I have not put my thoughts on to paper for criticism and debate.

My recent evolution is more of a forced metamorphosis or reaction too events that have shaped my life for the last few years.

When I was here last time it was incredible. Everything was new, exciting, dangerous in a good way, and things seemed much more clean. The people I meet were all very happy and excited to meet me. They praised us as saviors and wanted us to hold their children for photos. Sure some of them were not happy to see me, and thus they shot at me, and I at them. We had support from all sides and I came home and people felt we had done the right thing. I was proud to have helped and the burdens of service were alleviated by the support of a nation united.

This time, the war has changed. Some of the Iraqis are happy we are here, and they express it. Some are happy we are here to help, but are afraid to express it. Some are not happy we are here because they blame us for their problems. Some have hated us since we arrived in Iraq last march. Then there are those from other Arab nations who have come to do Jihad against the infidels.

I look back home and see a nation arguing about whether it was right to invade, should we stay in Iraq, prisoner abuses, and cultural differences leading to cultural insults. The on the job hazards have evolved into much more dangerous devices, and the body count continues to rise.

I see Michael more lambasting the president in a blatant attempt to pander to Europeans and left-wingers. This doesnt even address the Hollywood stars ululating in a traducing way. They epitomize the egregious and pernicious traits of scrofulous arrogance, and solipsism.

The eclectic detritus that passes Mr. Moores litmus test for inclusion in his documentary should horrify any impartial viewers and at the least cast in doubt Mr. Moores call for truthful polemic. Documentary is a misnomer; as its really a disingenuous and feckless op/ed film. He does have an interesting viewpoint and I support his 1st amendment rights, but disagree on his deceitful choice in content and presentation.
The internecine sophistry that is immutably linked to the more extreme elements in the polarized American political groups will not allow discourse to rise above muck-racking and lascivious accusation. This atavistic fact is a representation of the base instincts that guide peoples choices when they disengage their brain to live a prosaic life of civic irresponsibility and sloth.

2004-09-09T10:47:00.000+04:00

The real face of terrorism

Bridges to Baghdad in Flames

2004-09-09T09:48:00.000+04:00

I am appalled but not shocked by the recent kidnappings in Baghdad. This is nothing new. Kidnappings seem to be the order of the day. What is unique about this act of barbarism is the chosen victims. Western women working for a Humanitarian aid group. Reports are sketchy but this much can be assumed. There are several hostages two of which are Italian women. All were employees of Bridges to Baghdad, a group which works to bring aid to Iraq and was vehemently against the war.
Progress in Iraq is slow and painful, but is happening. Unfortunately the brunt of the pain is spread out upon Iraq's trying to better their country by being involved with the Iraqi Interm Government. These Iraq's who have had the courage to stand up and participate in the building of there country are constantly threatened with death. All to often the threats are carried out. They have my deepest respect and best wishes. Lets not forget that Iraqi's were kidnapped with the Italians.
These Hostage takers who embody the powerful and vocal minority of extremists show their callous disregard human life when they kidnap aid workers. Not only do they threaten people with genuine philanthropic intent but they further burden the people of Iraq. They are in effect denying aid to the most in need. They are denying aid to their countryman(this is assuming the terrorists in this case are Iraqi). As this event will probably signal the end of most aid missions to Iraq, the blame for the loss of foreign aid should not be shifted to multinational forces, but be placed squarely on the aggressively criminal actions of these extremists/terrorists. This once again illustrates the ideology of the greater terrorist trend we are seeing worldwide.
No one will be spared from the actions of the terrorist. This recent event in Iraq just reiterates what should be a commonly accepted fact.

2004-09-09T09:36:00.000+04:00

I am Ant

2004-09-09T08:23:00.000+04:00

Iraq in Transition: Vortex or Catalyst?

2004-09-09T06:15:00.000+04:00

I read a very interesting article written by the prestigious British Royal Institute of International Affairs (known as Chatham House). It paints a fairly bleak yet accurate picture of Iraq now and what it could possibly become. The article is titled, Iraq in Transition: Vortex or Catalyst.
I find it disturbing that the canidates running for the office of the US president seem more interested in arguing about who reported for duty and if they earned thier medals than what to do in Iraq. I have yet to see John Kerry offer specifics on what he plans to do with Iraq. Pulling out is not an answer. It avoids the entire issue. It offers an end state of disaster. In his defense I do understand the reasons behind his flip-flop voting record. Its an apt reminder of why senators do not run for office very often any more. You can agree with the reason for the war but not the way it is prosecuted or funded. However Kerry needs to let voters know how he plans on helping Iraq. No more vague promises of a larger coalition and disengagment. Sounds to me like he is still in Vietnam with Jane. This is his chance to show his maturity, wisdom, and vision for the country which he loves. Not relive the trauma of his youth.

I am Ant

2004-09-09T05:54:00.000+04:00

Up the tunnel again to the parade of the endless. Once more to the breach. Following my inevitable rise to the white plain the vastness of which is remarkable. Broken only by the dusty, pitted, and symetrical canals. This seemingly infinite space can kill. They said that once it was different. Made by a power beyond ours. But that is not now. I am not they.
Now searching for it. Always searching. When I find it I will know, but I know not what I look for. I can taste it in the air. I look to my fellow seekers. They are over come with the search too. Ahh. I have found it. I have found something. Try though I may, I cannot lift it. I must not give up. Probing, searching, can’t stop. Try again. Circling. Again. Searching. What was it I was looking for? No, nothing. I would remember if I had found something. They said it is our duty to search. I enjoy searching. But why do I search? They said I should and I must, but why do I search? I am a seeker.
Getting darker, I know this is dire. I feel it in my body. I know this has happened before. When? How do I know. I know this like I know I am. Must run now! The mad dash. Heaving breath. Why am I filled with excitement. I am about to die but I can’t get stop from grinning. Kin and friends rushing toward a fleeting existence. Death and dismemberment on all sides, but onward we must go. Why? Back down the tunnel. They said we are praise worthy. I am a seeker. I have come home again bearing fruit. Why am I to be praised? I am but a seeker. In significant, indistinguishable; but I am me?

We are gathered here to set out once more to the fruit of the plain. Courage, duty, and adventure are set before you. Seize it! Seize what is yours. Be not overcome with the anguish of why. You are seekers. Proud. Courageous. Indomitable. Your ranks are large. Your ranks are only eclipsed by your humble spirit. Gloriously humble. The best of seekers are humble seekers.
I once meet a seeker who never spoke. He toiled honorably for a long time. He built the tunnel with his own effort. He discovered the white plain. He never stopped. He never complained. He knew what was right. I was there on the plain when he perished. Seeking.
I did not weep. I knew he would not approve. Weeping was not what is best for us. Seeking is.
I then carried his empty vessel and buried him here; right where I stand today… in front of you now. When I had finished burying the Seeker it happened. The gift. We were blessed with the transcendental vision. We have lived by the Gift ever since. That was long ago, but the Seekers gift is truer with each passing moment.
Look around. Look how many of us there are now. Endless. With each day we grow stronger. Seeker by seeker we grow stronger. Legions of seekers now walk the plain. When we roar in the darkness we roar in legions! Come home with your burden or come home on it! There is no longer a need for single seekers. We have each other. Go now! Go Seek! Go Roar!

They’s speeches are always breathtaking. I am not sure how I know this. So many speeches. Do I remember what he wants? No surely not. I have never heard that speech before. I would know if I had. Humble. They’s seekers are humble.
Who will take they’s spot when he passes? That would not be humble. Everyone is going now. Rushing to keep up. I need something. What is it I am seeking? Almost there. Out of tunnel again. Is this the first time? The plain is so huge.
Seeking, striving, searching. I sense it! This way. Come everyone it is this way! Must go faster. I will find it! I will be they! Where is every one? Why can they not see? I am leading them to it! I will get it. I will find it! No! Darkness. But I have not found it.

Violence & Pacifism

2004-09-09T03:06:00.000+04:00

I feel most decent people would agree that violence is the darker part of human existence. Violence in an organized form is usually referred to as war or a form of war (even guerilla warfare and asymmetric war are homogenously inhomogeneous). War is either the just application of violence in the interests of a utilitarian good, or the unjust application with a selfish, or prejudicial goal. Violence is an ugly scarring thing. However the most abysmal thing I have yet heard is that there is nothing worth the cost of war(for proof of the need for defense in the form of war look at what the Janjaweed are doing to the Darfurian villagers).
The person who holds this opinion must be born and raised in a society already overcome with peace, must be defended and sheltered their entire life from war, and the inherent statement in their view is that they have nothing for which they are willing to fight. This is an amazingly selfish position; because it states that they will not risk their personal safety for anything nor anyone.
The only way in which this can exist is for the peaceful society to be kept peaceful by greater or more caring persons than the pacifist (I personally feel that the name pacifist is far to nice for these people). In fact the pacifist is not truly free from war, they are a product of its success. Further more they are a product of that societies decline, decay, and inevitable failure. If they get their way… who will defend them? How will they live with those that do not share their zeal in the idealism borne of peace?
They cannot survive without the protection of those they detest. I find this quite poetically ironic (reminiscent of the Cyclops curse). Their ethical stance irks me until I think of it in a different way. They are, regardless of age, intellectually immature. Having never been able to fully understand the virtue of selfishness and what it brings, they are unable to grasp the fact that their freedom of choice exercised as a choice of non-violence does not absolve them of complicity in the acts, which they abhor.

From Beslan to Baghdad and Back

2004-09-08T12:58:00.000+04:00

Every time I feel I may have become jaded or desensitized to violence, there is a new discovery of human depravity that was previously unconscionable. The tragic scene that unfolded today in the Ossetian village of Beslan (not to mention the beheading of the 12 Nepalese workers in Iraq) really puts the onus of responsibility for this war on terrorism in a stark & clear light. Though both sides may be guilty of lesser breaches in moral conduct, the realm of the truly morally wrong belongs solely to the Islamic minority we call extremists. Make no mistake about the intentions of the Chechen rebels. They are one of the most fundamental, violent, and extreme groups of Muslims in the world. There is much more than a Che Guevare style war of liberation being fought there. These relative few, along with their ideological brethren, have managed to grip the world with fear. I assert that it is more important to stop terrorism than to pull back from the world and let it be…there by appeasing the conscience of our moral highbrows, Anti-Americans, and ivory tower idealist. I also assert that force of arms is necessary to achieve the final and complicated goal of a safer world with a diminished terrorist threat. My following ramblings are just a quick attempt to put my jumbled thoughts to words.
I find the stacking of naked prisoners a far lesser offense than the blatant slaughter of hundreds of school children. The prisoners of Abu Ghurayb were imprisoned because they were murderers, arms dealers, and violent criminals. It was ethically wrong to humiliate them for the world to see, but to kill people in reprisal for this insult is not justice. In the western world we view the two incidents of Abu Ghurayb and Beslan as notionally and ideologically separate.
The extremist view them as leading from on to the other(I do not want to go down this line of thought in the interest of brevity). The slaughter of innocent children is wrong in any culture, land, creed, or religion I have ever heard or read about. While I have never claimed to be well read; I am quite sure this type of culture would be notorious and thus I implicitly assume it would be common knowledge.
I see the constant stream of dignitaries and scholars; be they Political, European, Muslim, Hindi, Christian, Jewish, or Atheist… decrying the statement,” this is a clash of civilizations." They challenge the way in which bush is waging the war on terror. I applaud them for exercising their right to dissent, though I disagree with their belief.
If we were not fighting in Iraq where do you think the terrorist will attack instead? Imagine for a moment if the Idea of a democratic free Iraq and Afghanistan takes hold. Ponder the effect that will have on terrorism…on the whole Middle East.
Today I saw the European Union again trying a policy of appeasement to extremist elements with a demarche of the Russian resolution to the standoff in Beslan (why they did this is too complicated to get into detail here). The facts of the standoff are not even out yet and already they quibble about who or what policy in the Russian governments was at fault. This blatantly disregards the personal culpability of the extremists. I am not absolving Russia of any wrong doing, but instead trying to highlight the way in which we open ourselves for attack by using a policy of appeasement. I assume there is no need to discuss where appeasement will and has lead before.
While the idea that this is not a clash of civilizations has some merit. I disagree to various degrees depending on the framing of the statements and its intended meaning. The holders of the view that this is not a clash are over looking the tenants that the extremists hold dear. Which has caused our intervention in Middle Eastern affairs.
Forgoing nauseating history and detail I feel that Shari’a law is a good example of there intentions. This is a simplification and by no means an all-inclusive position.
Modern Caliphates and independence from all western influence deemed contrary to Muslim tradition are the stated goals of extremists. These are the ideas and vitriolic that the extremist export via media and terrorism. They are unwilling to compromise.
The defense of our society (aka civilization) is not postured upon a religion but on a freedom of tolerance. The extremist’s civilization and reason for war/Jihad is based upon their belief in strict version of a singular religion ruling a nation state with the exclusion of all others. Both our views are inseparable from our respective cultures. Therefore I feel that as unattractive the term “clash of civilizations” is… the term is correct.
Western nations, and indeed many nations the world over, are founded on or striving to become nations of pluralism, tolerance, and diversity. These are the bastions through which capitalism has flourished and thereby caused globalization. This is a process that is the culmination of the many factors. The most important of which I believe is a free society.
With out the freedom to study as one wish’s, besides strife and toil, an entire people will not reach their potential contribution to the world’s gestalt. The gestalt being the Internet, which was possible only because a free society gave academics unfettered access to research and scientific thought; barring them no field of study. This is but one of a myriad assortment of daily achievements which are not possible if our societies are degraded or destroyed.
Out of the altruistic and into the pragmatic. My dress and that of my family is completely at our discretion. We have freedom of expression in any form we chose so long as it doesn’t infringe upon others. With freedom comes responsibility and civic duty.
In an Islamic state founded on Shari’a law these aforementioned freedoms are outlawed. Strictly speaking they are forbidden. Harsh punishments are meted out to even the most minor of infractions. Both heads and feet are routinely cut off. There is no religious freedom. There is no scholastic freedom. There is no political representation. The ultra-conservative views espoused in the Shari’a law interpretations are completely incompatible with what we have founded the west upon.
This is what the extremist are trying to force on the world. How else do you frame the conflict, if not clash of civilizations? Clash of cultures? But that discriminates against Middle Easterners. Clash of religions? But then we are branded as fighting a Crusade in the Roman Catholic tradition. Regardless of the name the conflict is called, the fact that there is a conflict cannot be refuted. Any quibbling over a name is mere diplomatic waffling in my eyes( I am not saying diplomacy is unnecessary). It’s denial, fear, or inability to grasp the threat we face.
Achievements and mistakes have taken us to where we are today. If we let Iraq and terrorism fall to the way side, we will have turned an achievement into a failure. Iraq and Afghanistan are geographically isolated from the US. However we have seen the rise of transnational terrorism and international travel lead to the deaths of thousands of innocents in New York. What happens if a state falls into chaos? In my opinion it becomes worse than a state that supports terrorism. I hope we don’t have to relearn the lessons of 9/11.