Failure As An Option

I’m hardly an expert on foreign policy. That represents a big difference between most who post on Facebook and me. Between the political experts and Constitutional scholars, social media has just about obviated the need for formal education or rational thought.

I can't help thinking, though, of the news about Afghanistan or the potential future. It’s not a pretty picture, but an inevitable one. "All things must end," as Bernie Madoff said when made off with the last dollar with which anyone trusted him.

It took us longer to fail in Afghanistan than it did the Russians. That, I admit, is "damning with faint praise."

I’m temped to say that it was an example of applying the wrong solution to the right problem which is, someone said, better than applying the right solution to the wrong problem. The bull enclosed in the ring and surrounded by thousands of screamers is not wrong to charge. It's just that the red cape isn't the right problem.

In our case, it was right to deal with the terror, cruelty, murder and instability created by unreasoning religious fever. It's just that guns were never going to accomplish the goal of peace against an army whose members were going to receive 72 virgins in Heaven upon death in battle. Oh, and lest we forget, it was an army supplied and supported by a neighboring country with its own flair for duplicity.

We held the zealots back for a long spell with sheer force. But in the long run, their god was stronger than our god. Instead of applying military power in such cases, we might have tried facts, reason, and rationale. After all, we had 20 years.

But to do that now, we’d have to set an example right here in America first. The current situation in our state doesn't suggest success though.

Friday Musings

I find myself unable to respond to Senator Elizabeth Warren’s decision to withdraw from the presidential race. As I face half the people I will see today, I am speechless. I haven’t suffered disquietude of this degree since I had to face my African-American shipmates on the day we heard that about the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.

There are some things that white American males can feel. There are some things white American males can’t feel. We can feel strongly about the ability of the current football coach. We can feel strongly about the men who repair our automobiles. We can feel strongly about the men who conduct our orchestras. We can even feel strongly about men of other races as long as we confine those feelings to their ability to do such things as dunk basketballs.

Hell, we can even feel strongly about women in the fields of cooking and dressmaking.

I guess we could, maybe, suppose things about our wives and sisters.

For example, I don’t suppose that Elizabeth Warren would collude with the president of South Vietnam to delay peace talks until after the next election, in order to boost her chances.

I don’t suppose Elizabeth Warren would countenance a band of thugs burglarizing the headquarters an opposing political party.

I don’t suppose Elizabeth Warren would announce her candidacy, as a sop to southern bigots, in the city where four civil rights workers were murdered in the 1960s

I don’t suppose Elizabeth Warren would countenance a maneuver to sell weapons to one of America’s most virulent enemies in order to finance, illegally, a foreign war.

I don’t suppose Elizabeth Warren would bomb the innocent citizens, and invade the land, of a sovereign country for political purposes.

I don’t suppose Elizabeth Warren would knowingly dishonor the disabled, veterans, veterans’ families, or the dead for the pure delight of her base supporters. I do suppose that as a former teacher she has read of the Roman gladiatorial contests and might eschew the spectacle of pain for enjoyment.

I don’t suppose that Elizabeth Warren would countenance a national effort to deny the vote to honest, hard working Americans who might not be her supporters.

Those are not “feminine things.” I could name dozens of our sisters that would apparently countenance such dishonorable things in a heartbeat.

I do suppose that where you sit says loudly, and with clear conciseness, who you are. I do suppose that Elizabeth Warren sits on the right side of history. I do hope that may turn out to be more important than one political race. I do think that, as a white male, is all I can say.

I do suppose Elizabeth Warren, as president,
would care for the least of those among us.