Who'd You Vote For, Er. . . Against?

Cranky's latest book:

Link: http://www.amazon.com/Whod-You-Vote-Er-Against/dp/1516918258

A TALE OF THREE TROIKAS

America’s major wars of the last half century—Vietnam, the Gulf War, and the Iraq-Afghanistan conflicts—had a common element: the nation’s war leadership in each, at least for a time, appeared principally to be in the hands of three individuals, or to borrow a term of Russian origin, a troika. For Vietnam, the troika was President Lyndon Johnson, Defense Secretary Robert McNamara, and General William Westmoreland. For the Gulf War, the troika was President George H.W. Bush, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff General Colin Powell, and Central Command Commander-in-Chief General Stormin’ Norman Schwarzkopf. For the Iraq and Afghanistan conflicts, the troika was President George W. Bush, Vice President Richard Cheney, and Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld.

To summarize: Troika One—Johnson, McNamara, Westmoreland; Troika Two—Bush1, Powell, Schwarzkopf; Troika Three—Bush2, Cheney, Rumsfeld.

The identification of the Troikas is not to say that all decision-making was in the hands of just the three members of each Troika. Many others in the bureaucracies had roles of importance. But the big three in each instance became the collective face of the endeavor. For Troika One, the Vietnam War had a “light at the end of the tunnel.” For Troika Two, Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait would “not stand.” For Troika Three, Americans would be “greeted as liberators” in Iraq.  

So how did the three Troikas do? Well, One and Three did not fare well. The light at the end of the Vietnam tunnel turned out to be no light at all. The tunnel just ended in murkiness. Greeted as liberators in Iraq? Maybe by some residents for a few months, but then the locals returned to their millennia-old disputes and grievances, with the added fun of turning on the latest group of outsiders who dared to intrude on their paradise.

And Troika Two? Wonder of wonders, it got the job done. Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait did not stand. Period.

The quality of the Troikas’ memberships might explain much of the uneven results. Troika One had a superior politician, a tactically adequate but strategically challenged soldier, and a brilliant but tragically flawed manager. Troika Three had an average, at best, politician, an ideologue with significant comprehension limitations, and a brilliant but tragically flawed manager. And Troika Two? Simply, it had three individuals who understood the relationship between objectives and resources.

Perhaps the most interesting components of Troikas One and Three were the brilliant but tragically flawed managers. McNamara and, to a lesser extent, Rumsfeld were certainly brilliant. All one had to do was ask them. But the brilliance was part of the flaws. They appeared too sure of themselves. Staff dissent appears to have been discouraged. This is not to say that there was much in the way of staff dissent. Maybe group think in the Pentagons of the 1960s and the 2000s was a contributor to the situation. The SecDefs had no reason to question their own brilliance because no one seriously disagreed with their pronouncements.

In any case, as smart as they were, neither McNamara nor Rumsfeld understood, at the level of international affairs and in the field of military operations, the relationship between objectives and resources. Each pursued the objective of winning a war with, one, inadequate resources, and two, little understanding of the nature and strength of the enemy. Each was given extraordinary leeway by a President who was beyond his natural element, which was domestic politics.

            
On one occasion, Donald Rumsfeld famously said, in response to a critical question from a low-ranking soldier, “you go to war with the Army you have.” The same can be said about a nation’s leaders: “you go to war with the leaders you have.” In Troika Two, the leaders were up to the challenge. In Troikas One and Three, not so much.

REPUBLICAN ROCK BOTTOM

You know your party has hit rock bottom when:

)  Forty-seven of your Senators sign a high-schoolish statement on foreign policy authored by a first-term goober Senator from Arkansas.

)  Your Speaker of the House of Representatives somehow equates himself with a Prime Minister by initiating relations with a foreign head-of-state.

)  In a spate with the President over the nation’s borders, your Congressional representatives threatened to shut down the agency that protects the nation’s borders.

)  Fox News praises your every move.

)  You have become the party of elderly Caucasians.

)  The Wall Street Journal has begun, mildly and with obvious reluctance, to criticize you.

)  Even the Great Ronnie would have wondered what the hell you're doing.

YOU DON'T LOVE AMERICA

Rudy Giuliani's admirable effort to identify who does and who does not love America needs some fleshing out, some specific criteria. So here goes:

)  Unless you believe that Bill O'Reilly saw combat in the Falklands War, you don't love America.

)  Unless you view slavery as no more than a minor blemish on the nation's otherwise impeccable history, you don't love America.

)  Unless you think that driving Native Americans from their lands and herding them onto reservations was no big deal, you don't love America.

)  Unless you believe that "enhanced interrogation" was a necessary response to 9/11 and was in no way incompatible with American principles of justice and morality, you don't love America.

)  Unless you consider Fox News to be the preeminent voice of fairness, objectivity, and rationality in the American media, you don't love America.

)  Unless you think that the top one percent deserve everything they have acquired by fair means or foul, you don't love America.

)  Unless you think that poor people have no one to blame but themselves, you don't love America.

)  Unless you think that only Christians can be full-fledged Americans, you don't love America.

)  Unless you think that climate change is the figment of some effete liberal's imagination, you don't love America.

)  Unless you think that an appropriate response to policy disputes is to shut down the government, you don't love America.

THE LITTLE WOMAN TAKES A TUMBLE

So Cranky is on the porcelain throne for his morning constitutional. Things are going smoothly, no backups, no traffic jams, no erratic vehicles. The throne room is on the second floor of Cranky’s dwelling, just off the top of the stairs from the first floor.

Suddenly there’s a tremendous crash followed by considerable thumbing and bumping as some sort of disaster descends the stairway. Cranky instantly knows what has occurred: the little woman, who has a bad knee, has taken a tumble. And Cranky knows what he must do: go to her aid.

But there’s the problem of his not-yet-completed effort on the porcelain throne. A vehicle is even then coming around the final curve. Should Cranky leap up immediately and go to provide aid? Should he wait on the descending vehicle? And what about cleaning the highway? Should the effort be limited to a cursory swipe? Should a full clean-up be performed?

Cranky mulls over the alternatives for some moments. Perhaps in his younger days he could have made a quicker decision. But aging affects one’s decision-making ability. Indeed, after a bit and no further noise from the stairs, Cranky begins to lose his grasp on what the issue is. He recovers, however, and settles upon the cursory swipe. Then he is up, out the door, and to the top of the stairs.

The little woman is lying on some soft luggage that had been at the bottom of the stairs. Cranky yells down, "You OK?"

"Ugh," she replies.

 

"OK, let me finish up and I'll be right down," says Cranky, returning to the throne room. He is aware that the highway could use more than a cursory swipe.

 

 

ULTIMATE SELFIE

On  September 23, the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office issued Patent No. 8,843,400. The patent assignee was Procter & Gamble. The patent was entitled “Method of collecting information regarding absorbent articles.” In Cranky's opinion, a patent should not have been granted for what is merely a method of conducting consumer tests of a product. Consumer testing is not new. The concept has been around for quite some time. The claimed invention seems like nothing more than applying the concept with the latest technology, which the U.S. Supreme Court has ruled in a series of recent cases does not ordinarily create a patentable result. See Alice Corporation Pty. LTD. v. CLS Bank International et al, 134 S.Ct. 2347 (June 2014). Here follows selected passages from the public patent document for Patent 8,843,400. 

DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF THE INVENTION

(First paragraph only) 

“The present invention is directed to methods of collecting information from individuals using computing devices and mobile computing devices. As mobile devices become more powerful and common, the opportunity for the collection of data has expanded. Traditional consumer studies require the collection of used absorbent articles so that the absorbent article may be evaluated and observed. This means that both the consumer and the test placer must handle the absorbent article. Further, it represents that a lag exists between when the absorbent article is used and when the used absorbent article can be examined. The claimed invention solves the problems and is directed to a method for collecting information from a consumer in real time. The information can include certain characteristics of the consumer's menstrual cycle and/or the absorbent articles, both before and after use. The information collected can be used to make correlations between the data and the information to develop future absorbent articles and/or to provide product selection recommendations.” 

BACKGROUND OF THE INVENTION

“Consumer goods companies may use consumer studies to learn how the absorbent articles may be improved. This is because women all have different levels of overall menstrual flow throughout their cycle and have different absorbent article needs. Often, a woman's menstrual cycle is typically characterized by initial light flow which subsequently increases and finally tapers off to the end of the period. When placing an absorbent article test, absorbent articles are used throughout a cycle leading to the opportunity for learning how different absorbent articles handle different flow properties. However, there is no way to determine if an absorbent article is used appropriately in the privacy of the user's home. In addition, the study may require the collection of data during and after a test, including for example, consumer perceptions and the used test absorbent articles. This can lead to various complications since the absorbent articles must be properly handled both by the user and by the consumer goods company that is placing the study. Further, handling during the collection of the used test absorbent article represents additional stresses on the test absorbent article that may further impact the results.

Consequently, the need remains for a method that allows the consumer to provide the information without requiring return of the used absorbent article. In addition, the need remains for a method that allows for the collection of data in real time. Furthermore, there remains a need for a method that allows for increased accuracy in the collection of data regarding the used test absorbent article.” 

FIRST CLAIM

(Claims are the formal, legal description of the invention; each claim can be only one sentence, a requirement that can result in some very long sentences) 

“1. A method of collecting information from an individual regarding absorbent articles, the method comprising: (a) collecting input information from an individual regarding absorbent article use wherein at least some of the information collected includes data generally known by most consumers; (b) collecting still or video image data from an individual consumer using a computing device; (c) uploading input information and still or video image data to a server; (d) using the input information and still or video image data collected to output data regarding the absorbent articles; (e) using the input information and still or video image data collected to output a set of correlations between the visual data and the input information; and wherein the set of correlations are utilized to determine the appropriate placement of the absorbent article on the undergarment or to track a stain on the absorbent article.” 

TWO DEFINITIONS FROM THE DETAILED DESCRIPTION SECTION

 

“Herein, the term ‘feminine hygiene absorbent article’ is used in a broad sense including any article able to receive and/or absorb and/or contain and/or retain body fluids/bodily exudates such as menses, vaginal secretions, and urine. Exemplary feminine hygiene absorbent articles include disposable feminine hygiene absorbent articles. Such articles include tampons, sanitary napkins, interlabial products, incontinence devices, and pantiliners.”

“As used herein, the term ‘image capturing device’ refers to a device capable of capturing a still or video image. Such image capturing devices include digital cameras, webcams, mobile phones, and tablets with image capturing software. The image capturing device may be physically and/or communicatively coupled to a mobile computing device and a display device.”

FOUR WEEK UPDATE

Four weeks after the Catastrophe on K Street, which was immediately followed by the Major Urban Trauma Center 5-Day Meltdown, Cranky is back in the 'burbs and slowly on the road to recovery. One thing he is learning is that a wide variety of opinions exist in the Orthopedics community about the pace and process of rehab for a ruptured quad tendon. Should the leg brace be on for 4, 6, or 8 weeks? Should knee flexing start at 2, 4, 6, or 8 weeks? Is sneaking the brace off while you sleep a minor transgression or a mortal sin?

Cranky has also learned that the brace he left the Major Urban Trauma Center (MUTC) with was not quite state-of-the art. When Cranky went for a consult at another Orthopedics facility, the brace, pictured above on the left, aroused a few snickers and several snide remarks such as "war surplus" and "Smithsonian donation material." Still, the actual medical procedure performed on Cranky's leg at the MUTC was apparently top notch. So hopefully in a few months he will be in as good a condition as any 71-year old, which means he will be waiting for the next body part to reach its expiration date.

K STREET CASUALTY

Cranky had a significant K Street experience recently. Every Washington wonk dreams of becoming a K Street somebody, and after almost forty years in the town, Cranky finally made it.

Did Cranky succeed in convincing a Congressional staffer to change the position of a comma in an appropriations bill, thereby qualifying Cranky’s client for several millions in tax breaks?

Noooo.

Did Cranky find a way for a client to avoid complex and expensive EPA regulations?

Noooo.

Did a maitre’d say to Cranky: “Haven’t seen you in a few days, Sir. Your usual table?”

Noooo.

Well, what was it?

After finishing a day’s work at a legal sweatshop document review project, Cranky was crossing K Street at its intersection with 18th Street when his knee went belly up. Cranky was almost instantly crumpled on the street in intense pain and screaming emphatically about it.

Fortunately, several of the hundreds of home-bound passersby paused in their journeys long enough to drag Cranky to the sidewalk and stand him against a small barrier protecting one of K Street’s lovely trees. The pain had subsided a tad and Cranky was able to examine his knee. (He just had running shorts on although he had not yet commenced his evening run.) Something was majorly obviously wrong. The kneecap was not in its accustomed place, having relocated down and to the left, and was sort of free-floating. The foremost thing in Cranky’s mind was, “I gotta get outta town.”

Now residents of the north side of the Potomac River in the DC area may not understand this, but many citizens of Northern Virginia prefer to keep certain functions on the south side and close to home, medical care being one of them. And there is some concern about trusting one's well-being to a large urban medical institution. The medical care may be among the finest, but it can come with some less-than-pleasant secondary accouterments. For example, about ten years ago, Cranky had a heart valve repair operation at a major urban institution. The medical procedure went as expected, but Cranky will never forget the week he spent afterwards, recuperating from major heart surgery, with a loud-snoring, quaintly odorous roommate who took frequent cigarette walks, returning reeking like a Camel commercial.

Anyway, think of him what you will, but Cranky did not desire to repeat the experience. So he tested his knee, found that he could gingerly make some progress, called his spouse to describe what had happened and his plan, and set out for a metro stop. The idea was to take the metro to a Northern Virginia station, and thus perhaps to a less stressful medical situation. Cranky did get part way to the Farragut West metro stop but then the knee gave way again, and he was once more on the ground, disrupting the commutes of many hundreds with his incessant screaming.

A few Good Samaritans were among the flowing crowds, however, and 911 was shortly called. An ambulance soon arrived. Cranky thanked his temporary guardians and was off to a large urban medical institution.

The rest of the story is as might be expected, only maybe a little worse. Cranky will try to keep it brief, mentioning the most salient points. The injury itself was a complete rupture or tear of the quadriceps tendon that attaches the quadriceps muscle to the kneecap, or patella. Or at least that’s the terminology as Cranky now understands it. Pain-wise, this is a baddy, but in terms of correction it seems to be a rather basic orthopedic surgical procedure involving the reattachment of the tendon to the kneecap. Indeed, it allegedly is sometimes done on an outpatient basis. The length and requirements of the rehab process, however, are no picnic.

Cranky arrived in the emergency room of Major Urban Trauma Center (exact identification withheld to protect the innocent) at approximately 5:30 p.m. on a Thursday afternoon. He was soon joined by Ms. Cranky, who was to be transported back and forth over the following days by Long-Suffering, Across-The-Street Neighbor, who seems to get a perverse pleasure from Cranky's adventures. The ER was Cranky's home for the next seven or so hours as he was evaluated, allegedly scheduled for surgery, and entertained by the dramas that are part of the environment of an urban ER. He was finally told that surgery would not occur that night, partly because the available Orthopedic Surgeon had too many other cases.

At this point, Cranky broached the possibility of being transferred to a medical facility in Northern Virginia. He was to raise this possibility several more times over the next few days as the surgery timeframe was continually revised. Each time he was persuaded by the argument that the move, while doable, required a major administrative and logistical effort, that the preliminary steps already taken would have to be repeated at the new institution, and that things were not much more than an hour or so away from beginning. In hindsight, …oh well.

Surgery did not occur the next morning although its start was allegedly not far off. The other thing that did not occur was pain medication. Whether through oversight, ineptness, conflict with the supposedly imminent surgery, Cranky went without pain medication for a three-hour period, and felt every second of the time.

Finally late Friday afternoon, the surgery time arrived, 24 hours after Cranky’s admission to Major Urban Trauma Center. But Cranky spoiled things by, with the commencement of the anesthesia, permitting his blood pressure to fall to dangerously low levels. The implication in the explanation given to Cranky after he had been resuscitated was that if only he hadn’t been such a wimp, everybody else would not have been inconvenienced, and the efficient workflow of Major Urban Trauma Center would not have been interrupted. Cranky’s counter that perhaps the underlying cause was the 24 hours he had spent on practically no food or liquids fell on deaf ears.

Incidentally, Cranky's whereabouts became a little uncertain at this stage, and Ms. Cranky spent almost 30 frantic minutes trying to determine if he had been thrown out with the trash.

So Cranky was back to waiting. The surgery was to occur the following morning, Saturday. Then it was first thing in the afternoon, then later in the afternoon. At about 5 p.m., 48 hours after being admitted, Cranky had a discussion with a Person of Some Importance about his predicament. This person seemed to be in charge of the Trauma Center portion of Major Urban Trauma Center. As this person explained it, Cranky just didn’t understand how a Major Urban Trauma Center operated. A Major Urban Trauma Center handles the most traumatic cases first. If you’re next in line, you get bumped if a more traumatic case comes in.

Eureka! So Simple! Now Cranky saw the light. He just had to wait until he had deteriorated enough to not get bumped by some Johnny-Come-Lately! So Cranky got back to the business at hand, which he now understood was to deteriorate some more.

Finally, later Saturday evening, Cranky had his surgery. And apparently things went well, medically. But it was not until Tuesday evening, three days after the surgery and five days after the beginning of the adventure, that Cranky was able to escape the medical Kafkaesque fortress. And this only after been told all day Tuesday that he was leaving but then running into the roadblock of an obstinate Intern who somehow, in the great scheme of  things at Major Urban Trauma Center, outranked or at least was on a par with the Resident and the Attending on her medical team. There was a problem with some blood count. Cranky told the roadblock, “Look, I’m leaving,” and for once Cranky prevailed.

It will be awhile before Cranky goes north of the Potomac River again.

PS: If you know of any good K Street personal injury lawyers, let Cranky know.

 

LONG LIVE THE CALIPHATE

Just about everybody seems concerned about radical Islamic extremists gaining control of a hunk of desert stretching from northern and eastern Syria to northern and western Iraq. From there, it is argued, they will have a base from which to mount attacks on Western, and Eastern, Civilization.

 

But getting all the militant whack-jobs in one place might just be the best strategy for controlling them and their activities. Particularly if that place is pretty much nothing but sand and rock. In such a place they can't hide from drones, overflights, and satellites. Their activities can be readily observed. An aggressive border surveillance can control ingress and egress. And a few airstrikes from time to time would keep them in a defensive posture.

 

So long live the caliphate. Give the terrorists and potential terrorists a place to gather. And then keep them there. Anybody got a better idea?

DICK CHENEY, PUMP HEAD

Ever wonder how Dick Cheney came to be? You know, the infatuation with torture, the un-thought-thru decisions about undertaking wars, the failures in planning and logistically supporting those wars? The knee-jerk hard-right response to pretty much any problem? Well, someone may have hit upon the answer.

 

In an opinion piece in the April 9-15 issue of the Boise Weekly—yeah, that’s right, Idaho—John Rember discusses Mr. Cheney’s history thusly:

 

He’s been under general anesthesia for a substantial portion of his life. One can assume high-school concussions [Mr. Cheney played football in high school], some months or years of not enough blood to the brain, some hardening of the cerebral arteries, long moments when one or more of his hearts ceased to pump blood, times when, fascinated with videos of water-boarding, he simply forgot to breathe.

 

Mr. Rember raises the term “pump head,” a condition of temporary, and sometimes not so temporary, mental problems experienced by some recipients of anesthesia. Cranky can vouch for the existence of pump head. He’s had two heart operations and several less serious but still anesthetized procedures, and his head ain’t been completely right since. Oh, he’s gotten a little less foggy as the operations have receded, but he’s still prone to excessive peevishness, decisions too quickly made, and a general reduction in compassion for his fellow man (and woman).

 

Lest anyone contend that Mr. Rember’s analysis is based solely on politics, he also mentioned Bill Clinton’s somewhat less than stellar press conferences following his open-hear surgery.

SUPERB OWL XLVIII--THE PERFECT TRIFECTA

Superb Owl (see Steven Colbert) XLVIII was the perfect trifecta: lousy game, lousy ads, lousy half-time show.

At least we won't be hearing weeks, months, and years of "Peyton Manning is the best quarterback of all-time." (But really Peyton, you ain't half bad.)

And Roger Sherman did not yell at the camera, causing some poor news chick to winch in discomfort. (Hope he's OK.)

And who was that half-time singer, anyway? (Guess I'm showing my age.)

And Queen Latifa singing America the Beautiful? (Wasn't bad but just don't seem right.)

And those pre-game, half-time, and post-game commentators! (Really, the whole concept of talking heads needs to be revisited; on the other hand, it is employing the otherwise unemployable.)

And what's next? (That's right, the Final Four; life is such a grind.)

No, the Winter Olympics comes first! (There's hope after all! Hundreds of hours of watching people play in the snow and on the ice! Just like watching TV from Atlanta!)

ALASKA, WHERE IS IT?

Hope Alaska Senator Mark Begich does not find out about the U.S. map painted on the playground at George Mason Elementary School in Alexandria, Virginia. According to an article in the Washington Post's Style section of January 22, the Senator's pet peeve is U.S. maps that ignore or misplace his state. The George Mason map has Alaska, the nation's largest state as measured by land mass, at about the size of South Carolina and located just to the south of California.

At least Alaska fared better than Hawaii, which is no longer in the Pacific Ocean but has been relocated to the Caribbean.

In defense of the educators at George Mason, perhaps their goal is not a geography lesson but an attempt to illustrate a component of Quantum Physics theory, that component being Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle. Still, it's a little disconcerting to think of all the Alexandria urchins who go forth thinking a state with humongous glaciers exists immediately south of California. Maybe they pass it off as just a Sarah Palin thing.

MORE ON "POSITIVE RESPONSE"

More ED physicians and clinics seem to be guarantying, in radio advertisements, a "positive response" while in the doctor's office. The problem is that the guarantor is usually an earnest clinical-sounding male. Nothing against male ED docs and clinics, but such advertising falls a little flat, if you catch my drift.

A preferable advertisement would feature a sultry female voice, maybe from a Doctor or Nurse with a last name such as Svensen who invites you to call her "Brigitte." She would offer the guaranty thusly:

"I guaranty you a [pause, then uttered with innuendo] positive response while in the office or your money will be refunded. And no one has asked for a refund in a long, long time."

Wouldn't such advertising be a bit more effective?

TEA PARTY AMERICA: THE ‘60s COME FULL CIRCLE

Remember those wacky ‘60s? At least some of us old-timers do, and you kids, you might have read about those years in your history classes. (Do they still teach history in school?) Anyway, those were fun times. A raucous group of anti-establishment, anti-government, anti-authoritarian wackos dominated the national discourse. They were a minority of the population but you would never know it from the amount of attention they attracted to themselves. They competed with each other to see who could be the most outlandish, who could produce the most consternation amongst their fellow citizens.

 

And guess what!? They’er back! Anti-establishment, anti-government, anti-authoritarian wackos dominating the national discourse. To be sure, they don’t have quite the same political philosophy as did their 1960s’ predecessors, but the details are minor compared to the central focus shared by the two groups. That central focus was then and is today the desire to collapse a good portion of society, and mostly just for the fun of it.

NEOCONS, WHERE’D THEY GO?

Remember a few years back when neocons—neoconservatives—were all the rage? Remember the large role they played in getting the nation into those little skirmishes in Iraq and Afghanistan? Well, they certainly seem few and far between today. A handful are still around: Bill Kristol, Charles Krauthammer, Laura Ingraham, for example. Dick Cheney still sounds off occasionally. But by and large they seem to be lying low.

Which on one hand is a pity, because their willingness to throw military might at a situation could contribute to the backing the President seeks before delivering a bit of punishment to Bashar al-Assad for using chemical weapons, a punishment that definitely should be delivered.

But on the other hand, those neocons weren’t the most rational people. Their answer to most problems in the foreign affairs arena boiled down to us kicking the snot out of some country or group. Winning hearts and minds was not their thing. Their attitude was, “Grab ‘em by the gonads. The hearts and minds will follow.”

And the “us” that was to do the snot kicking wasn’t necessarily them, safely ensconced in their think tanks, literary havens, political positions, and the like. The “us” was the sons and daughters of ordinary Americans. As Mr. Cheney once said about the five military deferments he received in the sixties (Vietnam, remember?), “I had other priorities.”

Moreover, the neocons weren’t very good on the details of snot-kicking. Just throw some troops at the problem. We’ll think about goals, objectives, strategy, and stuff later. They were sort of the opposite of Teddy Roosevelt’s “speak softly and carry a big stick.” They were more “scream loudly ‘til the other guy quits.” Only the other guy can often outlast the inept application of military power.

So most of us won’t miss the neocons. They were fun while they lasted, but all good things must end. Now we can turn for entertainment to those rising laugh-a-minute libertarians. It’s like your favorite TV show went off the air but this new one definitely has possibilities.

OBAMA'S SYRIAN SPEECH

This is what the President should say in his upcoming speech to the nation on Syria. Oh, not necessarily the exact words. His speech writers should be able to smooth the jagged edges. But these are the points he should get across Tuesday night.

My fellow Americans. I come before you tonight to present the case for military action against the Syrian regime of Bashar al-Assad. The reason for military action is simple: punishment for using chemical weapons.

War is horrible. But chemical weapons are especially horrific. They were used extensively in World War I. The revulsion against them and their terrible effects was so great that they were absent from the battlefields of World War II and have been employed only in isolated instances since then. All but a handful of nations--Angola, North Korea, Egypt, South Sudan, and Syria--are party to the Chemical Weapons Convention outlawing the production, stockpiling, and use of chemical weapons.

Bashar al-Assad was warned about using chemical weapons in Syria's current civil war. But he ignored the warnings and recently slaughtered more than a thousand fellow Syrians, including over four hundred children, with chemicals.

This despicable act requires punishment. And that is the nature of the military action I am prepared to undertake. The action is punishment for waging war in a manner that is condemned by the vast majority of the world's nations and peoples. The action is designed not only to punish Bashar al-Assad but also to discourage any other powers from resorting to such evil in the future.

But, many ask, how would punishing the Syrian dictator impact our policy toward him in general and toward the civil war he is conducting?

Our desire regarding Bashar al-Assad and Syria is that he no longer be the ruler of Syria and that Syria start down the path to a democratic government and freedom and justice for its citizens. But these goals are not things we will pursue with large-scale military action. To impose our will on Syria by force would require a massive military invasion, an effort similar to the one we led in 1990-91 to remove the forces of Saddam Hussein from Kuwait. The wars we have fought in Iraq and Afghanistan over the last decade show the confusing, unsatisfying outcomes that can flow form trying to do too much with too little military. 

Partly as a result of the inconclusive Iraq and Afghanistan wars, partly as a result of a decade of exposure to the perplexing conflicts of the Middle East, the American people would not be supportive of open-ended military action in the area, much less a large-scale military effort in Syria. Moreover, a large-scale military effort would have to be followed by a large-scale, long-term military occupation in order to protect the fragile new government. And again, this is not a mission Americans are currently disposed to undertake.

We will continue to explore diplomatic solutions. We will provide various sorts of support--short of large-scale military action--to what groups we can find in Syria that share our desire for peace, justice, and democracy in the country. But we are not prepared to attempt to solve the many problems in that part of the world by force. We are the most powerful nation in the world, but there are limits to that power. There are limits to what we can accomplish in, or impose on, other cultures. 

What we can do is to punish pure evil. And chemically killing over a thousand of his fellow Syrians, including over four hundred children, was an act of pure evil by Bashar al-Assad. I propose to punish him and his instruments of power for that act.

 

Thank you, and may God bless and protect America.

OBAMA ROLLS THE DICE

In what could be one of the defining actions of his Presidency, President Obama has rolled the dice on military action against the Syrian regime. Instead of ordering military action, he has asked Congress for authorization to do so.

The need to respond to the despicable conduct of the Syrian regime−using chemical weapons against its own people−would have been unquestioned in decades past. But the combination of three factors is threatening to turn back the nation's clock to the pre-World War II years when peace at all cost was the shameful stance of many Americans. First, after the costly and drawn out conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan−drawn out in large measure because of the military incompetence of Bush, Cheney, and Rumsfeld−the American people are tired of foreign involvements, particularly in the perplexing, confusing Middle East.

Second, the current Congress is certainly one of the most partisan and inept in the nation's long history of partisan and inept Congresses. If this Congress is a true reflection of the electorate, we are indeed a nation dominated by dummies. And third, far too many so-called conservatives, including far too many conservatives in Congress, simply want to see Obama fail, never mind the cost to the nation. The visceral dislike−hatred is not too strong a word−of the nation's first President who does not have a typical middle or upper class American background is more than palpable in some quarters.

So it does not seem too strong a statement to say that the President has put his ability to govern effectively over the next three years, and his place in history, on a roll of the dice. Maybe this isn't his reasoning, but his bet seems to be that the Congress can rise above itself, can rise above the passions that have engulfed tea-party, Fox-Noise America, and do what is required of a world power with responsibilities it may not want but most certainly should not avoid.

That is one helluva bet.

THE APOCALYPSE NEARS

Signs that the Apocalypse ain't far away:

) Private Chelsea Manning (It's not the transgender thing; it's that someone with such obvious mental and emotional problems had practically unlimited access to sensitive documents pertaining to the nation's security)

) Senator Ted Cruz

) Republicans in general (Remember the good ol' days when Democrats were the whacko party? At least they were never a real threat to bring the American experiment to a crashing halt)

) Facebook

) Twitter

) The Middle East

) Climate change deniers

) Fox Noise

 

) A financial system that is totally at the mercy of computers (and hackers and technological glitches and whatall)

STAND YOUR GROUND = LICENSE TO KILL

Stripped of legalese and high-sounding bows to an individual's right of self-defense, the essence of stand your ground laws is a license to kill. You find yourself in a ticklish situation with a loud-mouth ahole, you don't have to expend energy in trying to defuse things. You can just blow his sorry a** away.

 

In the Trayvon Martin-George Zimmerman confrontation, whoever survived arguably had a stand-your-ground defense. Zimmerman was allegedly on the  ground getting his head pounded into the concrete, so he was justified in shooting Martin. Never mind that Zimmerman had stupidly put himself in harm's way.

 

If Martin had been the survivor, he most certainly would have had a stand your ground defense. He was being followed by some weird wannabe tough guy who had a gun. If that is not a threatening situation justifying a bit of preventative killing, nothing is.

 

Yeah, standing your ground is a great addition to the Second Amendment. No more need to show a preference for peaceful solutions or defusing actions. Rationality is for losers. The law says you can shoot first. Ain't that great?

F-BOMB IN COURT

Much to the delight of the nation's media, pundits, and assorted talking heads, the prosecutor in his opening statement in the George Zimmerman trial dropped the f-bomb. It was a planned drop, not one of those spur-of-the-moment “oh f***”s. The prosecutor was quoting Mr. Zimmerman in a call the latter had made to the police shortly before slaying another individual, a slaying Mr. Zimmerman claims was self-defense but the state, represented by the prosecutor, asserts was murder.

The prosecutor was not the first lawyer to drop the f-bomb in a trial. Cranky his own self did so almost four decades ago. At the time, Cranky had a little part-time law practice down in Williamsburg, Virginia, where he had grown up and was working on a graduate degree at the Big Green, or The College of W&M. One day a cousin dropped into his office, a young lady he had last seen when she was a child. She was now a young adult and in a bit of a jam.

Seems she had gotten into an argument with another young lady over the affections of a young gentleman, a truck driver as near as Cranky can recall. Some unpleasant words were uttered and there may have been a bit of hair-pulling. The local constabulary became involved, and Cranky's cousin found herself with a court date. Only a misdemeanor was alleged, so it wasn't the crime of the century.

Still, Cranky didn't get into a courtroom much. Thus here was an opportunity to shine. The only witness against Cranky's cousin was the other young lady. In fact, since only a misdemeanor was involved, there was no prosecuting attorney. The complaining young lady took the stand and told the judge her version of events. The judge, incidentally, who Cranky had been before on several other occasions, conducted his court in the head-down position. He was continuously writing and rarely looked up for eye-contact with anyone in the courtroom−attorneys, parties, police officers, spectators, anyone.

The young lady completed her perceptions of the truth as she remembered them. As one might expect, she was just an innocent victim of a wrathful other woman. But Cranky had heard his cousin's version of the incident, and that version included one item that the complaining young lady had not mentioned.

So Cranky got right to it: “Miss Jones, isn't it true that you called my client a 'Mothaf***ing B****'?”

The low rumble of courtroom back-up noise ceased. Jaws of spectators and attending law enforcement officers dropped. The judge looked up from his writing. And the young lady on the stand commenced a flustered bout of hemming and hawing.

Soon after, the judge ended the proceedings by instructing the two young ladies to stay the heck away from each other. Some months later, after several billing notices, Cranky's cousin paid him his $10 fee.

All in all, it was one of Cranky's finest courtroom moments, rivaled only by the time a young male client ran from the courtroom shortly after being told by the judge that he needed to spend some time at a state facility for troublesome youths. After following his client for several hours through the picturesque Colonial Capital, Cranky was able to flag down an officer of the law, who returned Cranky and the adventurous youth to the courtroom.

But that's another story.