i did try to put an end thingy like this -

But you are right, it was an interesting read. Didn’t mean to sound so crabby, but your excerpt was long enough (and skipped some parts of the original blog post) that I thought the last paragraph was yours and not the blogger’s. My bad.

Thanks, but the point is not that there are “folk here on the other side.” In fact, I doubt anyone posting in this thread is particularly happy with W at this point and certainly no one is playing “armchair commando,” and I’ve not seen it at any time on this blog’s comment reel. Which really makes 4DBirds comments just foolish and out of place. She is addressing an audience who is not here. As are you.

What pisses me off even more than an obviously penile impaired fella driving one, is when I see a fake boobed Barbie doll behind the wheel, cell phone pressed to her ear, trying to park her environmental poke-in-the-eye in a compact only parking space, and inevitably hogging three spaces. Nancy’s permanent bumper stickers are so called for at time like those.

I read with amusement the whole litany of previous comments regarding enlistment and troop support, which can be summed up as “Enlist!” “No, you enlist!” “I enlisted so everyone should enlist!”

The ultimate bloggage regarding troop support can be found here:
http://kfmonkey.blogspot.com/2006/05/lions-led-by-donkeys.html
excerpt:
>The problem is, these yahoos have managed an ugly trick. They have turned criticism of the policies of Bastards in Suits into criticism of The People in Uniform Getting Shot At. This, of course, is completely wrong, as one can easily tell the difference between the Bastards in Suits and The People in Uniform Getting Shot At. One group is in Suits, and Not Getting Shot At, while another is in Uniform, and Getting Shot At. Please, try to grasp this. Not the same.

There is a flip side. Some people confuse supporting the Bastards in Suits for supporting The People in Uniform Getting Shot At. This is, again, ridiculous. If the history of modern warfare has taught us anything, it’s that the Bastards in Suits spend an awful lot of time working the kinks out of plans involving The People in Uniform dying unpleasantly. They often screw that up. When they do screw up, it is incumbent upon Bastards in Suits to suffer criticism and fix the situation, as by comparison The People in Uniform are suffering shattered skulls, missing limbs and death. Which is, on my scale, exponentially more traumatic than criticism.

Some people even seem confused on how we are criticizing the Bastards in Suits. The Bastards have a job to do. They are not doing it. Period. Tommy Franks recently trotted out the classic bit of misdirection, attacking critics of Donald Rumsfeld.

“I don’t care about your politics. I don’t. Don Rumsfeld is an American patriot.”

Yes, well, that’s lovely. But we’re not criticizing his patriotism. We’re criticizing his job performance. One of the great mysteries of the last six years was how and when the Bush Administration turned public policy into Special Olympics. “Oh, I know Donny knocked over all the hurdles, but HE LOVES THE RACE, so you SHUT YOUR FILTHY, CYNICAL MOUTH.” Jesus H. Christ.

The first war I read about extensively was World War I, where I encountered the magnificently British term “Lions led by donkeys.” If there’s a more apt description of our current thrill-ride, I can’t think of it. Here’s the thing: you folk on the other side of this particular argumentative aisle may like the Donkeys. You may trust the Donkeys. But never, ever forget the goddam difference.

Maybe a similar sticker for the stern of such craft, advising the offender to ‘join the Navy’, eh?

Uh, or ‘Join the Navy, Coward!’ as someone here might say.

I will never be able to afford a Humvee, but if I could afford one – it would be for “weekend driving” – much as some people go out in a cigarette boat and burn “the blood of US soldiers” for no useful reason at all, other than enjoyment.

Maybe a similar sticker for the stern of such craft, advising the offender to ‘join the Navy’, eh?