Chosen By Fate

Falling through the universe at the speed of life

By David Glenn Cox

I want to take a moment to do something I’ve never done before, by offering praise to the Trump Administration. When they signed the peace agreement with the Taliban, it appeared as if someone had finally come to their senses. Trump was the iconoclast, the Red Bull in the China shop. His reputation could stand the beating most politicians would face walking away in Afghanistan. He could use George Washington’s wooden teeth and get away with it! But he said, “we must stop the endless wars” and he was right about that. Much like a Timex watch is right twice a day, but still, he was right.

Somebody eventually was going to have to withdraw the troops; it’s been thus since the Rome fell. Pyrrhic victories as our CNN correspondent confirms missiles are landing in Kabul. Spending a million dollars for every hundred dollars of damage inflicted. Bombing them back into the stone age or sometime last month. Don’t blame the fire departments slow response time, blame the Arsonist. This country didn’t fall into Afghanistan like a misstep in the dark; it was taken there. Taken there by smart guys, sharpies with all the angles. The same war voices always so prevalent. “It will all be over before Christmas!” Once they get a look at our super hyper jiggy missile, they will just give up. At only sixteen million dollars per copy, it boasts a 92% accuracy when fired under ideal test conditions.

If you wanted to create the ultimate in computer simulations for “Insurgency” title it, “Afghanistan, The Real Thing.” Use the millions of empty square miles to beguile your enemy. Hide in plain sight with near 100%  impunity and popular support! Gain points by finding international funding through your enemies, enemies. Be the first warlord on your block to have your own million-dollar antiaircraft gun on the back of your new Toyota pickup. Play both sides by offering to work for your enemy. Learn his ways and schedules and weaknesses, while he learns nothing about you. You don’t need to fight the warhorse you just need to tire it out, until it is ready to leave of its own volition. Until the prize isn’t worth the cost of holding onto it.

It was going to be the greatest show on Earth. High-tech wizard weaponry, against fifteenth Century barbarity. You can’t drag them kicking and screaming into the 21st Century if they don’t want to come. I remember a few years back during a famine in Ethiopia. The United Nations was trying to convince tribal villagers to practice birth control. Explaining, “you live a marginal existence here. There is plenty of food when things go well. But when it doesn’t, there isn’t enough food for you and your ten children. Perhaps, if you only had three or four children, the famine wouldn’t be so pronounced.” The villagers were indignant. “Listen here buddy, just because you flew halfway around the world and spent millions of dollars feeding us. That doesn’t give you the right to come in here and tell us how to live! If I want to have ten kids and watch seven of them die before adulthood, that’s my business! No, I don’t want a mask!”

The importance of a boogey man can’t be overstated. Someone to focus their attention on the evils of Goldstein, and the perils of Penelope.  Proud Afghans voting for democratic candidates who had to seek government approval before being included on the ballot. Candidates advocating a 15th Century non-western primitive, to hell the foreigner’s lifestyle will be excluded.

Attention all units; Be on the lookout for a tall Arab man last seen dragging a dialysis machine behind him. He is believed to be hiding out in one of the millions of remote caves in Afghanistan or at the Karachi Hilton in Pakistan. “Lee Harvey Oswald was arrested inside the Texas theater.” Someone to focus those two minutes of hate on, so they don’t go to waste. It was all going to be so easy as they whispered, “Next stop Iran.”

The war on terror and the war on error. The war on drugs and the war on poverty. Illegal drug use is rooted in poverty. So, if you win the war on poverty, you probably shouldn’t have to fight the war on drugs so much. If you win the war on error, there will be no need to fight the war on terror. A case of aluminum tubes and secret recipes could haves, maybes and probablies. Charts and position papers, “oh there is no doubt, he was responsible.” We have evidence from an uniformed third party who overheard an expert tell of a secret telegram wishing the leader of a terrorist cell happy birthday. “Happy Birthday” our experts believe, was the secret code word to commence the attack.” I never said Bin Laden was involved…where did you ever get a crazy idea like that? Smile America, the snipe await you. No limit!

Steve Reeves in the role of Hercules, was going use his great strength to pull down a couple of temples to show off to the locals what a tough guy really looks like. George W was going to use his great strength just to show off. Walk loudly and hit those defenseless against you. Cow NATO and Palau into supporting the Coalition of the billing. Tell me, when did you stop beating your wife? Tell me or we will invade within 24 hours! “But I don’t beat my wife.” Combative, huh! Want to fight about it, huh! See this chip I just knocked off my shoulder? That means you’re in for it!

“We are going to punish somebody for this attack, but just who or where will be blown to smithereens for it is hard to say. Maybe Afghanistan, maybe Pakistan or Iraq, or possibly all three at once. Who knows? Not even the Generals in what remains of the Pentagon or the New York papers calling for war seem to know who did it or where to look for them.

This is going to be a very expensive war, and Victory is not guaranteed–for anyone, and certainly not for a baffled little creep like George W. Bush. All he knows is that his father started the war a long time ago, and that he, the goofy child President, has been chosen by Fate and the global Oil industry to finish it off.”

― Hunter S. Thompson

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