Wednesday, August 10, 2005

MemeSquash:Chickenhawks

The moonbats really need to get some fresh scriptwriting talent on board. If I had a dollar for every time I've encountered some variant on the "sending x's children off to fight and die", I wouldn't have the hassle of a commute. Since I have the priviledge of seeing the real (not media-sanctioned) pictures of these "children", there is a sense of confusion because they look like adults to me. Very capable adults. Adults, in short, capable of making up their own minds about VOLUNTEERING and understanding the reasons why they are fighting and yes, dying.

But enough about them. Let's talk about me. According to Moonbat Theology those poor misguided chillun aren't nearly as culpable as I am. Your humble Snarkatron, you see, has the nerve to a) support the war in Iraq and b) never darken the door of a recruiting center. This makes me (according to them) a raging, 24-carat hypocrite. A chickenhawk. I send other people's children (see above) to die for OIIILLLLL! but I'm not willing to go myself because I might get killed and that would put a crimp in my world domination plans.

Perhaps this is an unintended consequence of the moonbat's characteristic fixation on the methods, tactics, and strategies of Vietnam, although the firm belief in the military's need for cannon fodder is more WWII-era. They must not have gotten the memo about the tooth-to-tail ratio (the number of people actually going out and shooting bad guys vs. the number of people back in the base driving trucks and sorting ammo). It has, shall we say, changed. Moreover, should I do as the moonbats scornfully suggest and attempt to volunteer, I very much doubt the military would want me. After all, I'm only months away from the maximum signup age, my 1 mile run time is not very spectacular, my three words of Arabic are completely useless for interrogations, the finer points of manual transmissions continue to elude me, and I've yet to make a successful landing in Flight Simulator. Yeah, I'm a recruiter's dream.

But even if I was 28 and in killer shape, I don't know if I'd join up. I've never held moonbats in much esteem (hence the name) so their opinion of me has little weight. I'd be more worried if they approved of me. No, the important opinions are those of the soldiers over there. THEY know what they need. Strangely, I haven't heard one yet complaining about people not joining when they support the war. I *have* heard many, many complaints about how they and their mission are being portrayed in the media back home. About how the liberals only seem to care about them when they are dead. That nobody seems to hear about the progress made or the good things that have happened.

That's part of why this blog got started. I feel it is my obligation to speak out to support the soldiers and their mission. Not as glamorous even as being an Army truck driver, nor as dangerous. Doesn't mean it doesn't need doing. When a serving soldier tells me I should enlist, I'll listen. Until then, I will do my level best to cause chaos and confusion in the moonbat colonies. Telling the truth is usually all it takes.

References:
CounterColumn
Indepundit
BlackFive
Lance in Iraq
Castle Argghhh!
Mudville Gazette
Uncle Jim
Froggy Ruminations
Michael Yon

and many, many others

1 Comments:

Blogger Barb said...

Ah, yes - don't you love the way the nay-sayers think they know better than the military what it should have? We could form a special older-chicks regiment, though :-)

7:20 AM, August 13, 2005  

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