Friday, January 23, 2009

Some few years ago I was selling some timber to a travelling flat bed truck. Actually, I was selling the timber to the driver of the truck – he was somewhat irritated with me for selling bits and pieces to my neighbors, you see, and he wanted to get my supplies as far from my reach as possible. So, he sent around the three trucks and five men to vacuum up all the loose stuff.

Place looked pretty good when he left, I must admit. Well, it did after I spent some time cleaning up the debris. Truly, I felt some pride of ownership when all was said and done. My military mind, I suppose.

Anyway, I got to talking with one of the men in that crew about terrorists and what not and suggested that taking prisoners of the terrorists was almost as silly as ignoring them.

The man wanted to know what I would do with such folks and I told him I hadn’t a clue. I allowed as how taking no prisoners might be the better idea. I explained to him that fighters of their stripe would kill as many as possible to the point their life was threatened and then surrender. It was at that point, I said, we should shoot the bastards and get on to the next bunch.

He looked at me kinda sideways and said if we did that, wouldn’t they just shoot any of ours they captured? Well, I said, probably they’d do some what worse than just shoot them.

I got all creative about then and expounded on the theme. I suggested that no matter where we took these guys we swept up, if we released them they’d simply return to the ranks to shoot us again. They were not normal thinking people, you see. It might be best if we selected a minimum crew for an airplane of our most useless flight people, or perhaps a remotely piloted airplane and send it out over the oceans. Then we could send some of the more proficient flight crews out after that plane, flame it, and we could tell the world the plane exploded.

We wouldn’t have to tell them why.

That man I was talking with stayed all sober and repeated his question. I told him I had no idea where or what I’d do with them.

I was all satisfied as hell when better and more imaginative folks of ours came up with Git Mo. I was. I did not want those folks in the U.S.. Why circumvent immigration laws and grant legal status to a bunch like them?

I tried to tell this man that if we recognized the prisoners, if we said we were at war with a stateless bunch, then we’d be giving credence to their efforts. And if we did that, then we’d best hold to the line that they were other than ours and treat them that way, for the duration of the disturbance we were fighting.

I did allow that the cost of keeping these yahoo’s would be around for a long time, because their mind set would keep the disturbance going for untold years.

Well. There was more to the conversation. It took most of the day to clear out those logs, and that man and I never did run out of stuff to blabber over.

And now, having watched most of my thoughts come around, I can only say: Bush, you done pretty well, boy.

Obama – you’ve only started, and I figured you’re an empty suit, more in love with the sum than the substance of the office. Still, you made it. And all ready you’ve made a bad mistake.

You and your liberal party.

You see, you’re not dealing with liberal thinkers in the terrorists. You’re dealing with very conservative thinkers. Who see guns as an extension of everyday policy, not exceptional circumstance events.

Don’t get confused. Terrorists are not the Republicans – Republicans are a bit civilized. They are a bit over civilized, even. Which might be part of the Republicans problem.

Just a Friday muse.
_____

From the reaches,

Ten Mile

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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