Monday, August 08, 2005

Wish I'd said that

The Poor Man is one blogger I wish I could channel. For instance (in reference to conservative bloggers justifying Iraq by posting photos of carnage):

...(T)he justification for the Global Vaguely-Defined Endeavor Generally In Opposition To Some Nebulous Foreign Evil (GVDEGIOTSNFE) has finally become entirely pre-verbal... I fear that we may soon devolve to a point where the war cheerleaders simply re-enact the Dawn of Man scenes of 2001, leaping and screeching and waving a tapir’s femur in a morally clear manner. Or maybe we already passed that stage and I missed it.


Watching the overt case for war fall apart was like watching a fat man do a bellyflop into an empty swimming pool - kind of funny, in a perverse way, but mostly just painful to watch. I was prepared for the lack of connections to al Qaeda, so that was no big surprise, although finding a country in the Middle East that has that little to do with the deaths of 3,000 people on 9/11 is kind of an accomplishment. I figured that Iraq didn’t have much in the way of a nuclear program, because that should have been relatively easy to find, but what kind of country doesn’t have any chemical weapons at all? If you had asked me before the war to name a country that had really had literally zero chemical weapons, I would probably have said “I don’t know, like, Andorra, maybe”, and if you asked me today, I would have to say “Iraq, and maybe Andorra”. I still don’t get that. I’d much rather be tasked with making some poison chemicals that making, say, a rifle - pour bleach and hydrochloric acid in your bathtub, and you’ve got chlorine gas, and you can enjoy in the privacy of your own unventilated bathroom the same protracted death as unknown thousands of soldiers in WWI. Now, making it into something that can be delivered on the battlefield is presumably harder, and I’ve got no clue how you do it, but come on. Tweakers with no teeth who haven’t slept since 2002 manage to make high-quality methamphetamine in a rural Kentucky outhouse, and an oil-rich nation of millions can’t even field a few crappy chlorine gas canisters? I’m rambling a bit here, but the drop from impending mushroom clouds to jack fucking shit is a hell of a fall. I’m just saying.


...The case for war seems to have metastasized from a case that could be expressed, although not very convincingly, into something ineffable - that je ne sais quoi that comes to you when you look at pictures of mayhem and horror, some kind of foreign policy jazz where if you have to ask, you’ll never understand. It’s inadequate, it’s evasive, and it’s pathetic.

More, much more, at link.


At 12:29 AM, Blogger jj mollo said...

Eloquent rants are very satisfying, but not very useful.

At 2:26 AM, Blogger Arachnae said...

How 'delightfully' Spockian. Have any trenchant commentary on the efficacy of ermine violins to share with us?

At 4:28 PM, Blogger jj mollo said...

I understand that an admixture of Vulcan personnel became policy on subsequent voyages. The firm integration of varying points of view makes society stronger.


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