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« Here today, Orgone tomorrow... | Main | Meet the Winners of the Otherworldly Straw Poll »

22 August 2007



Until a couple of months ago, I lived in downtown Silver Spring, MD, about a mile or two up the road from Walter Reed. The area's been extensively redeveloped, so that it's like a big open-air shopping mall. Over the last few years, once or twice a week I'd see some fresh harvest from Iraq, wheeling around or taking the new prostheses out for a spin.

I'm a vet, too -- but I was a decidedly rear-echelon squid. Anyway, I never knew what to say to these guys. Seems presumptuous to just go up to them and say, I'm sorry, or Thank you for your service. I'm just glad that Walter Reed doesn't have a burn unit, or (as far as I know) handle reconstructive plastic surgery.... And I couldn't help thinking that it's gotta be strange, coming back to one of the wealthiest areas of the planet, and seeing everybody pretty much oblivious to the war.

Another thing: I loathe the Cheney criminal syndicate every bit as much as you. Hell, roasting them on a pit is letting them off too easy. But the really galling thing is that they, and their more effective lickspittles (Kristol, Perle, Feith, Davey Brooks, Mr. Friedman Unit himself) -- they all live just a few Metro stops away. They're all doing splendidly, and I'm sure that many of them can look forward to six or seven figure advances on their memoirs.

Meanwhile, "my" Democratic Party does absolutely nothing to head off an even bigger catastrophe in Iran. It looks as though it all rests pretty much entirely in the hands of Bush and Cheney, eh? I expect that the period after the election will be ideal for a fait accompli.

We are so fucked.....

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