The Iraq War Was Appropriate

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Sparse Publication

N.B.: Publication of electronic-journal entries has been sparse in frequency in the recent past.

I cannot predict one way or the other whether this relatively low frequency will increase in the immediate future.

I do have some wet-work to do soon, I'm afraid, so that may complicate matters.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Info and Disinfo

Folks, if you want to read something which made me guffaw like a hyena, trek on over here (echoing this). This pointyhead - if he's serious, that is (see below) - doesn't have a clue as to how these things work. I actually spilled my sake on my spats when I first read this risible fever dream.

Now don't get me wrong, these guys Omar and Ali, oh they may well be our assets all right. I'm not saying there's not potential there. They certainly seem like the type. I could perhaps have whipped up some use for them in my day. But this is not the way they would be handled. Just trust me here. The setup, it's all wrong.

Or if it is a Company deal, I'd like to have - to say the least - a little chat with the case officer and ask him just what in Sam Hill he thinks he's accomplishing, if anything. Playing sugar daddy to a couple of "bloggers"? Granted, the fact that they're brothers, that's a bonus. Like I said, there's something there. But let's get real: dental students who preach to a tiny, self-selected choir in the boondocks of the internet? What in hell kind of propaganda campaign is that? Is this what they're teaching at Langley nowadays? (If so, it's no wonder the Russkies got Saddam's cache over the border, right under our noses. But I digress.)

Now look. I've been out of the loop for a while, I realize, but I just don't think things have sunk that low.

Frankly, this Cole guy, he seems more like the your classic run-of-the-mill agent, and a useful one at that, what with the "liberal" cover. (This cover is so ancient and hackneyed it should be seen through by the smallest schoolchild by now, but, much to my ongoing amazement, it's usually still enough to do the trick. As they say, nobody ever went broke underestimating.... ah, but I digress.) Anyway, cover or no, a tenured piled-high-and-deeper publicly posting a theory this flat-out stupid for everyone to read, it's almost got to be disinfo, planted discreetly with a pliable, seldom-used agent. (Now that I think on it, I even think I know whose handiwork this might be, doggone it! Yeah, I know just the guy. It's him or his group anyway.)

But forgive me if I just roll my eyes. If you're really concerned, Joe-College Idealist, about this type of thing, this oh-so-evil taint of "CIA Money" (and whose money is preferable, you should be asking yourself? Or is that type of sober ratiocination too much to ask?), Mr. Cole would surely be the one to keep an eye on, by this observer's lights. So go ahead, all you would-be Hardy Boys, knock yourself out. I'll even get you started: start by looking at his funding - where does he get his grants? Another biggie: what conferences has he spoken at, and are there any where someone may have, discreetly, approached him and made the initial contact? Extrapolate, and use your common sense. But this is basic, basic stuff here, my friends. I'm bored just talking about it.

As for the Iraqi brothers who are supposedly at the center of this silly tale, so much of that kind of nonsense would be swatted down immediately if people would just use their brains for a change and see through this obvious disinfo for what it really is. The next question is, given our (I think now quite safe) assumption that this is all misdirection, what's it a setup for? What's it leading up to? I'll be making a few calls but I can't promise any answers. You know how these things are, people all guard their little domains jealously, like trolls under bridges.

All of which amounts to a big dog-and-pony masquerade that isn't even necessary, if you ask me. After all, most of you lot, you don't see the obvious even when it's staring you in the face, do you? "CIA agent bloggers" my arse, you Oprah-addled rubes wouldn't even recognize a CIA agent even if one rose from the Arkansas backwoods to the Presidency. What's that? I've shattered your fragile world-views, pulverized everything you thought you knew? I'll believe it when you plebes stop tuning in to Dr. Phil every night like little mind-numbed drones seeking instructions from the queen bee, and start using your own brains for a change.

I'm not holding my breath, by any means.

Those who know that they are profound strive for clarity. Those who would like to seem profound to the crowd strive for obscurity. For the crowd believes that if it cannot see to the bottom of something it must be profound. It is so timid and dislikes going into the water. -Nietzsche

Monday, December 13, 2004

To Moms

About this puerile armor brouhaha currently distracting our once-great nation. My gut feeling, first of all, is to state the following and be done with it:

Listen, Mom, if you wanted your precious child to be at all times ensconced in concentric circles of impenetrable material, Mom, you probably should have squeezed your knees together for a change, kept him inside, stayed away from the night clubs, and hoped for the best. Nevertheless, somehow, against all the odds apparently, your little moppet not only got squeezed out, but has turned into an actual man, Mom. Not just a man, but a soldier. If this is not what you wanted for your little page boy then you should have done your darnedest to raise yourself a pooftah, or perhaps a girl. I assume you already tried this with Barbie dolls, yoga classes, sensitivity training, gender-neutral language instruction, and the like. But your efforts failed, the clock can't be turned back, instead of opening an art exhibit little Austin or Tyler has gone and joined up, and so I can't help you. No one can, not even Mother Oprah. As an outlet for your time-displaced, guilt-driven feelings of better-late-than-never coddle-nurturing, I suggest getting yourself a poodle. You can place a ribbon on it. A pink one. It would be ever so pretty.

However, there is more to this than fending off the fretting jibes of navel-gazing baby boomer once-absentee, now-politically-"active", suddenly-all-too-caring, "parents". It goes to the heart of what it means to fight a guerilla insurgency. (Although the following is a remedial lesson evidently much needed in our society, I shall not pretend that anything I write here was not anticipated long ago by Sun Tzu.)

When fighting a guerilla insurgency, the name of the game is dissipation. Do they concentrate their efforts, or do they thin and stretch them in pointless random ineffectual snipes against lines and convoys? Do we want command centers overrun or do we want silly "cells" of losers plotting for a week just to blow up a couple guys with a roadside bomb? I vote the latter.

Sound callous? Sorry, Mom, but that is the cold hard calculation of war. Kissinger knew this.

Following this (inevitable, irrevocable) logic, there is such a thing as over-armoring. If soldiers become invincible knights atop their HUM-V horses, guess where the uprising peasantry will turn next? That's right: the castle.

It's a numbers game from that point.

I assure you that Rummy knows all of this, even if you don't. Mom.

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

The Current State of Education

As my readers will have inferred, my business trip has kept me away from posting to this web journal rather longer than was expected. I hadn't had any idea of the state things were in.

On a side note which is at once lighter and more depressing, here at the Motel my room is equipped with a cable-fed television, so that during my solitary moments of repose, I have had a chance to catch up on my television viewing. (I have not had a television at the house since I threw out the dusty old black-and-white in 1981. Can't say as I've missed the idiot box.)

Virtually everything I have seen is pure rubbish, of course - much of it utterly incomprehensible, in fact. But by far the most offensive and shocking program I chanced to look at was, evidently, a "60 Minutes" style interview/"television magazine" program which features hosts of steadily increasing stupidity. It is almost as if the stupidity is by design - it's that bad. I am not sure if "60 Minutes" is still on, and I can't say as though I was ever too impressed by that lot (if only for certain very specific reasons I cannot go into here), but if this is the type of thing which is replacing it, it is clearly a significant step down. Unforunately, I did not catch the name of the program, but I shall undertake to describe it to you on the off chance that you, being more familiar with popular culture I presume, will recognize it by its description, so that you will know to steer clear.

One of the hosts appears to be an idiot of Soviet extraction (ex-Soviet, should I say? I'll never get used to that), Kazakh perhaps if the accent is any indication, and (unsurprisingly) he indeed has their usual puerile obsession with sex and bodily functions. Don't get me wrong, I have worked with many of his type and they can be salt of the earth and good drinking fellows, but never in a million years did I imagine one of these moral infants would be handed a microphone and placed in front of a camera for Joe and Jane America to watch. The man is an embarrassment to his nation, but then again, what on earth could they have expected? Whoever decided that it was a good idea to expose unsuspecting Americans to the true nature of those people needs to be fired. On some things, at least until these silly, childish ex-Soviet mafia states learn to civilize themselves a bit more, Americans are better kept ignorant - trust me.

Another host appears to be simply, pardon my French, a vapid airheaded pooftah. The segment found him at some sort of fashion show, thus failed to hold my interest and I switched stations to one which continually displayed the current status of the weather.

The third host in the next and final segment I saw, however, left me shaking my head in disbelief. He appears to be, by my estimation, a young man from the England slums with apparently no education, and who speaks barely a word of coherent English. He dresses abominably - at first glance I had judged him to be wearing rain gear of some sort. And he embarrasses himself in literally every interview. I shall not even attempt to record the litany of ridiculous, stupid, simple, vulgar, idiotic, and jaw-droppingly off-point questions and remarks he made to a parade of public figures who, I was gratified and surprised to note, for the most part made every effort to indulge him and be patient with his slow and moronic nature.

Can anyone apprise me as to the name of this show and who is behind it? If this is representative of the state of popular television programming, and if these hosts are any indication as to the education of our younger generations, I weep for the future. East, West, Christendom, Islam, terrorism, oil assets - it won't matter. We're all doomed.

They still fall for it, every time

For the record, this is textbook disinfo. I even think I know whose handiwork it is, too. The press just soaks it up.

Nothing changes.

Thursday, December 02, 2004

Worth Your Look

James Bowman explains why, in point of fact, the recent much publicized brawl involving basketballer Ron Artest was a demonstration of honor on the part of Mr. Artest, and not, as is popularly supposed, a lack thereof.

Frankly, that's not something I expect many of you to understand, however. Most of you wouldn't know honor if it were to eviscerate you with a garden trowel.