What is it with these people? Have they never developed a conceptual frame more sophisticated than the one they learned on the playground in elementary school? At least in Yoshida’s case, Napoleonic grandiosity and homocidal fantasies aside, he’s still pretty much a kid. Michael Smerconish is a grown man, but a big part of his schtick is blathering about the “sissification” of America.

Projection: it’s not just a concept; it’s a way of life.

I believe the opposite to be true – and I believe that history is on my side on this one. I don’t like war anymore than the next person.

Apparently Sun Tzu’s Art of War isn’t in Adam’s beat mag (Soldier of Forture) stack:

Sun Tzu said: In the practical art of war, the best thing of all is to take the enemy’s country whole and intact; to shatter and destroy it is not so good. So, too, it is better to recapture an army entire than to destroy it, to capture a regiment, a detachment or a company entire than to destroy them.

Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting.

Therefore the skillful leader subdues the enemy’s troops without any fighting; he captures their cities without laying siege to them; he overthrows their kingdom without lengthy operations in the field.
[Chia Lin notes that he only overthrows the Government, but does no harm to individuals. The classical instance is Wu Wang, who after having put an end to the Yin dynasty was acclaimed "Father and mother of the people."]

With his forces intact he will dispute the mastery of the Empire, and thus, without losing a man, his triumph will be complete.

When you engage in actual fighting, if victory is long in coming, then men’s weapons will grow dull and their ardor will be damped. If you lay siege to a town, you will exhaust your strength.

Again, if the campaign is protracted, the resources of the State will not be equal to the strain.

Now, when your weapons are dulled, your ardor damped, your strength exhausted and your treasure spent, other chieftains will spring up to take advantage of your extremity. Then no man, however wise, will be able to avert the consequences that must ensue.

Probably not much of this in Sgt. Rock…

The first thing you should know about Adam is that he is not even an American at all, despite what you might think from his rantings. He is, in fact, a Canadian! Yet he always speaks of “we” and “us” when referring to the United States. Weird.

Adam Yoshida favors “a Greater United States, one which ecompasses [sic] 96 states”. See his breakdown on this Usenet post:

http://groups.google.ca/group/soc.history.what-if/msg/e2f0a22a689009d1?hl=en&

Oh, and another great one: “Well let’s face it if I were born in Argentina and I were 17 or 18 I probably would have been working for the Secret Police, ot [sic] been in officer training.”

http://groups.google.ca/group/soc.history.what-if/msg/f8b60fb84e0f72f8?hl=en&

I’m veering a bit off topic here, but I really, really, really wish that people took alcohol seriously as a drug. There are a lot of really terrible stories that begin, “Well, I was drinking a lot that night . . . .” A drug that suppresses inhibition, impairs judgment, and is commonly used to excess is a dangerous thing. (I hope I don’t sound all moralistic and judgmental, since that’s not at all my intention; what I’m thinking about as I write this is a woman I knew in college who got smashed on prom night, passed out, and woke up naked. She never knew for sure what happened, but she could guess.)

This is one of those situations where I wish I were religious, so that I could say I’d pray for your friend. It makes you feel like you’re doing something constructive, even if you’re talking to somebody who isn’t there (or at least isn’t picking up if he/she/it is there).

Anyway, to –finally– get to the main point of this post, what I hadn’t noticed was that my ride had been imbibing… quite a bit. He’d been partaking of the shots, but there were a fair number of people there, so I’d barely interacted with him all evening. Earlier, he’d mentioned we were going back down to Illinois that evening, as he had some important stuff on his plate on Sunday (we occasionally stay the weekend). I would have been alarmed if I knew how much he’d been drinking. I’d have likely requested that we stay overnight and leave early the next morning. But, those concerns would have proved moot. He simply disappeared. I think I saw him wander out the front door. Now, mind you, this is a teensy group of houses in an extremely rural area. There is little lighting at night, just vast seas of darkness. There is a nearby lake. While roads are fairly sparse, and lightly travelled at night, the traffic that does go by does so at a terrible velocity. There is also a little local tavern a few blocks away that might seem inticing to someone already well in his cups. Vast, lightless farm fields with accompanying barbed wire fences. And, behind many of those fences, spookable cattle and hungry pigs. Behind the house, a woods. In other words, many ways for things to go horribly wrong.
It took a while for anyone to notice that he was missing. Once it became clear that he wasn’t anywhere in the house, including the basement, and was nowhere to be found in the back yard, we decided to attempt to locate him around the neighborhood. Small groups set out in search–fortunately, several of us carried good flashlights on our persons (yeah, I know–geeks!). By this time, the fellow who had driven me up to Wisconsin had been missing for several hours. Over time, the searchers all reported back. No sign of him. Much as we didn’t wish to raise this to an official incident, we finally called it in to the local police or sherriff’s department (not sure which they are). Fourth of July weekend, and they’re pretty swamped with petty vandalism, drunkenness, and bar fights, so they took our information and promised to get back to us when they had some news. In the meantime, we’d been trying at intervals to call his cell phone. It would go immediately into voicemail, so it seemed not to be on. More time passed, and still no sign. Moreover, this was so unlike this particular person. He’s usually quite responsible. Though at first I hadn’t been all that concerned, as time passed I started getting a bad feeling about the whole affair. I also started hunting around for an alternative ride home, ‘cos many of the guests live fairly nearby me, and some of them were starting to prepare to leave.
As it turned out, the Twins drove me home, both of them being nicer than their norm, though I must admit that the studly one’s penchant for very high-speed highway travel is a wee bit unsettling. I also had the paranoid thoughts: what if they’re planning on dumping me somewhere desolate and remote, and me without a cell phone? Or, what if they saw this as their finest chance to beat the living crap out of a faggot who had been known to mock them? Or, what if they pulled over to the shoulder and demanded head (at least that wouldn’t be so bad, unless it was accompanied with one of the other ones)? Fortunately, other than our rate of travel, the trip was uneventful. I gave them the brief directions to the nearby tollway that would take them home, thanked them, and went inside and wrote this piece. By the time that I left, no news had emerged about our friend, and I don’t really have a good feeling about the whole thing. When I find out more, I’ll post more. To think that early on I had joked to someone, “Four words. Alien abduction, anal probe.” Fuck. Well, at least nothing worse than his mysterious disappearance has been confirmed.

At this juncture, she begins obsessively reading the Bible, not having bothered before in her life. And, quelle suprise! All the things the loving presence had told her and all the fantastic imagery encountered on her near-death magical mystery tour are located right there… in the Bible! Well, on the spot, she decides to become the most Christianest Christian the world has ever seen! Etc., etc., blah blah. I listened as politely as possible, keeping my expression as neutral as I could. I had already determined that should she press me about my own faith that I would say that I find discussing such intensely personal matters distasteful and cut it off there. It wasn’t that I feared approbation if I honestly said that I find all religion silly and unsupported by any evidence whatsoever, it’s just that I feared that it would egg her on to regale me with myriad more tales of miracles and redemption and be utterly incapable of realizing that I desire neither.
Fortunately, her fiancé swept her away before she could apply a full-court press on me, though there were near-misses the rest of the evening. By this time, I noted the arrival of the two young men we refer to as “the Republican Twins.” While the general tenor of my friends and the people who are their friends ranges from moderate to radically leftist, the Republican Twins are ever eager to, well, spout official GOP talking points. Not only do we counter any spin they may be attempting to pass with reality-based, specific facts (they specialize in generalizations), but we often poke fun at the fact that they’re practically inseparable, whereas the other, more progressive men (if they’re hetero) tend to have a girlfriend or a wife. Though I somewhat find using an implication of homosexuality as an “insult” in many ways distasteful, in this case when we observe that they behave like an old, married couple, the funny comes from the fact that they’re so horrified at the thought (or is it excited?). Though everyone at these gatherings knows that I’m gay, I get zero flack for it, so it’s cool (though, as open as I am about it, I’m not entirely certain that the Republican Twins have caught on yet, go figure). Though, needless to note, I’m a little more discreet around neighbors and the like, since my friends have to live amongst these people, and besides, it’s really none of their business. The Republican Twins choose to hang out with us, the universal common denominator being that we’re all comics/sci-fi nerds, so it’s not so astonishing that the RTs don’t have girls, it’s that practically everyone else does.
Though I was somewhat in a bad mood, I had become progressively buzzed on various alcoholic beverages (though I succeeded in sticking to the low-proof stuff–there were numerous opportunities for shots). I wasn’t quite drunk–no slurred speech, no greater difficulty in movement than usual, but I wasn’t going to be driving, so whatever. I had been keeping myself amused, to some extent, by occaisionally needling the Twins, but not excessively. The Twins, BTW, look nothing alike, other than both being twenty-something white dudes, and both fairly thin. The one of them that tends to get his ass handed to him by various other factions is just smart enough to fancy himself a person with “leadership potential,” though he remains unmoved by our pitch to have him join the Army and see the Navy Iraq. He’s a good bit more aggressive than the other one, and frequently ends up in over his head. Also, a good, primary Repub personality trait: smarmy! And if he’s the leader, well obviously the other is the minion. Unfortunately, he’s a minion who’s somewhat cute, and I spend nearly as much time flirting with him as anything else. He’s not as aggressive, and sadly, a bit less bright. So, yeah, I’d fuck him at the drop of his pants, only I’d feel guilty about it the next morning.

Continued…

On topic–Yoshi’s an idiot and his naked lust to murder and torture, so amply documented, should be used to involuntarily commit him to an asylum for the criminally insane. Lock him in a rubber room and toss the key.

Off topic, I’ve just had a rather unpleasant night. I spent this afternoon and evening visiting good friends that I see only 2-4 times a year in rural Wisconsin. I tag along with one of our mutual friends to conserve transit costs and because I’m still unclear about the route northwards–I can rarely learn something like that through directions. I find actually driving while someone who knows how to get there navigates to be most effective, but no one has done this for me yet. Upon arrival, we circulate separately, as there are many people at these things that we rarely see.
First off, one of my friends’ elderly female neighbors asked me if she could tell me a personal story, privately! Evidently, someone had told her about various serious medical conditions that have either afflicted me or are currently doing their best to make my life hell (I’m not angry about her having been told, in person I’m fairly open about these problems–online, not so much). I was getting strong “wacky Christian” vibes off her, and in a moment where the neighbor was out of earshot, I asked the hostess whether the neighbor was foamingly Xian. Why yes, yes she was! I damned well knew what I was to be in for then: tales of how Gawd/Jeebus/The Holy Spirit had greatly improved the neighbor’s life, and how if I got right with the aforementioned, I could, too! Oh, how I love this type of lecture! I looked about to see if there was a broken bottle to slice myself open with, but it was too late.
Yes, yes–she had actually died at some point in the ’60s, tunnel of light, indescribable loving presence of light, look–there’s her late father! She had a choice to either stay with her dad and this mysterious presence, or to go back to her hospital bed and take her chances. The thought of her semi-disabled husband and four children made her choose life, but promise the mystical light that she would try and get right with Him. At this point, she miraculously recovers from the fatal disease that had had her in its grip, even though doctors had assured her that she would die. Not only did she regain her health, she popped out 3 more babies! Hosannahs on her, it seems (why do these religious people always take such great pride in their helping overpopulate the planet?)!

(The Christian-bashing ends soon, I just wanted to share the several annoying things that put me in a foul mood before the actual, really bad thing did)
Continued…

Why am I not surprised?

Does that count? I could write it out wiz an outrayjoos akzent!

And did you see. Freedomland beat Brazil today!

…oh, forget it.

Mike from NZ — I read something about that on the internets a few months back. Yeah, he got his ass kicked.

Y…e…a…hhhhhh, I GUESS…I’ve always been more of a Crissy fan. See, Crissy didn’t have Martina’s strength and athleticism. She didn’t have Evonne Goolagong’s skills. She didn’t have the speed of Rosie Casals, or the consistenncy of Billie Jean King. She had a great big steaming pile of “I fucking refuse to lose”. She had her will, and she knew about don’t quit. And she was tougher, steadier and just more committed than her competion…

mikey

And yes, Steffi was one of the best. Second only to Navratilova IMHO.

And Nadal? Don’t buy the “unbeatable on clay” hype. This kid’s the real deal, neal. Did you see him dispatch Roddick? That was ALL game plan and execution. He kept pulling Roddick up and passing him. Roddick, the best power game in the game today, had to play NADAL’S game, and it cost him. He’ll be out of the top ten. Watch this kid–he keeps it from going to his head, he’s got a real run ahead of him, and Federer better start thinking about what it’s gonna take to keep ahead of Nadal…

mikey