America, Ensign of Freedom

Sure I can deny this falsehood.

It has utility to defend our nation. Impressing others is not what the military is for, even if doing so has military value in the projection of power beyond our borders.

To claim it's "useless" without the projection of power is utter nonsense.

It's fundamental purpose is to protect our territory, not give a counter punch and not to project power.

So while I can agree that impessing others can be useful I do not agree that the military is "useless" in it's fundamental capacity, which again is: to protect our territory.

I dunno Craven. Seems to me that it is entirely reasonable to think that an enemy determined to hurt us is much more likely to be emboldened to do so if they think our military is window dressing only.

Does it sound sensible to attack a country in order to convince them of our willingness to attack them?

Foxfyre,

I've always though the "paper tiger" stuff was a bit too heavy on amateur shrinkage and too light on making sure the mentality invoked is even true or that it makes a difference.

For example, I suspect that regardless of what we are perceived as in that front terrorists will attack us.

They sometimes call us weak and call for attacks against us.

When we fight back they call us monsters and call for attacks against us.

I personally think the prevailing theme they have going on is "attacks against us" and that regardless of what we do they will stay in that single-minded focus.

So when people evoke such psychology I am unsure that it has anything to do with real ways we can protect ourselves so much as their predisposition toward more agressive military use.

Either way, I think calling the military "useless" if we do not use it outside our borders is indicative of the militarism in the mentality.

I think the US should project power, but think some people get a wee bit carried away with it.

With regard to terrorists, this is a disgustingly absurd line of argument. Terrorists plan operations which have nothing to do with the military: they don't come here to target military installations; they don't operate in discreter, militarily cohesive units which can be identified and confronted militarily; they have no national allegiances, and are neither impressed with nor deterred by threats to the nation(s) in which they are hosted. I see this is as part and parcel of the shortsightedness, the "just don't get it" character of the right wing fanatics. All the military might in the world would have and did fail to prevent the attacks of September 11th. I'm rather disappointed to see this discussion successfully sidetracked by a non-issue of miltarism v. terrorism. The PNAC's agenda does not call for military hegemony because it wants to eliminate havens for terrorists. It does so to further the "principles" of America. The only terrorism arising from the PNAC agenda as envisioned in their foundation in 1997 is the terror experienced by those who enjoy the blessings of American culture, militarily administered.

A Fable

A man, his family and his dog lived a comfortable life in the suburbs near a large urban area. It was not always so. The man had inherited a small business from his father, who was an immigrant from a distant land. The man really did appreciate the sacrifices and initiative his father had shown in overcoming numerous obstacles in his new country. However, by the time the father died the business was so good that his son was able to move out to a pretty house, with a view of the country. There was a large yard for the children and the dog to play in, and it seemed an ideal life. For a while the man commuted to his business in the city, but as time went on conditions there became unpleasant.

Young men with no education, or skills hung about street corners in gangs. The crime rate increased, car jacking and strong-armed robberies on the streets become common. The man found that he could stay at home in the suburbs and pay others to run his business for him. Of course, the paid employees probably didn't do quite as good a job, but there was still enough profit for the man to avoid the risks of going into the city.

Out in the suburbs the man felt safe. The crime rate was low, and people seldom locked their doors, life was good. Being a responsible citizen the man was active in community affairs and frequently participated in town council meetings. He really hated to pay un-necessary taxes because his income wasn't all that great, and he needed to save some money to send his children off to college. Grudgingly he supported some bond measures for the local schools, and he recognized the need to have a local police force. After all, traffic had to be controlled and drunk drivers leaving the Country Club needed to be taken off the road. He also supported hiring police officers because in the back of his mind he knew that some of the ugliness of the city might just possibly seep out into his perfect suburb. On the other hand, did the village really need a swat team, or be have reciprocal support agreements with other police agencies? Why couldn't the Chief of Police and one deputy handle the suburb's policing requirements? They shouldn't need much. So the Town Council decided to have a two-man force. The C.O.P. was Andy, an avuncular sort of guy who was everyone's friend and who could defuse any local disagreement with a bit of homespun wisdom. His deputy was Barney, also a good-natured sort of fellow, but a bit excitable. Andy kept Barney out of trouble by only issuing him one bullet and insisting that the bullet never, ever be taken out of his shirt pocket.

Meanwhile, the inner city continued to fall into disorder. More and more people fled to the suburbs, and those who were left behind cowered behind closed doors. Danger and drugs controlled the streets, and the gangs pretty much did whatever they wished. They fell into a practice of robbing the store run by our hero's employees once, or twice a month. It became harder for him to get good employees, and his income suffered. The man began to agitate for something to be done to bring peace and stability to the urban area. The City replied that there wasn't anything they could do. The gangs were too well armed, and they had "friends" on the City Council. The bribery paid by the gangs had subverted the police, the courts, and made any effective action impossible.

So the man went to the State and asked them to intervene. The governor expressed his sympathy, but replied that he just didn't have the votes in the legislature to do anything to improve things. The head of the State Department of Public Safety was the ex-police chief from Devastated City, and he saw no problem. The man was frustrated, so he went home and fumed as conditions continued to deteriorate.

Having some influence, and not being the only suburbanite whose way of life was being threatened by the urban gangs, our hero lobbied the town leaders to take a stand against gang-rule. A stern warning was issued that if things didn't change, the town might be forced to send its police force into the city to provide safety and security there. Of course, the gangs had a good laugh at that. They knew that the State authorities wouldn't act, after all they had "friends" up on that exalted level looking after their interests. The suburban police had no jurisdiction in the City. The folks in the suburbs weren't going to start anything, after all they were so afraid that they avoided even coming into the City to shop. Even if the suburbs sent their police force into break up the gangs, what could Chief Andy and his deputy Barney do anyway?

Emboldened by the circumstances, the gangs began to make small raids out into the suburbs. They'd hit a fast food store for a few dollars and be gone. They might drive through a quiet street shooting out the street lights, and flee before anything could be done about it. Chief Andy could see that things were not going to get better, so he began to hire more deputies. He saw to it they received quality training, and became proficient with their firearms. Our hero and his neighbors almost went ballistic having the C.O.P. spending all that money, and just when it was becoming more difficult to make a living. Petitions were circulated to dump the Mayor and hire someone who would promise to cut back on all that un-necessary spending for police.

Then one fine day, an urban gang held up the local bank. They came in with automatic weapons, and cleaned out the till. Leaving the bank they began firing indiscriminately at pedestrians. By the time they were out of the suburbs 32 people lay dead, and 70 were injured. The man's son was one of the injured, and would never play football again. That evening, the town council made one last try to get the State authorities to act, but the State wouldn't budge. The next day the Mayor, acting with support of the council and most of the citizens, authorized Chief Andy to go into the city and arrest the gang that had just massacred citizens from the their town. There was a lot of objections from citizens who cried that a terrible blood-bath would occur, and perhaps some other means of dealing with the gangs might be found. Some argued that they should wait for the State to act, and other pointed out that their police force had no jurisdiction the City.

Chief Andy was undeterred, and in a surprisingly short time had gained control of the mean City streets. The gangs were banished, but unwilling to give up their dominance over the turf. Chief Andy did what he could to get a new City Council up and running, to restore effective policing in the City and to reopen the courts. All the while, gang members did their best to resist. They ambushed police officers, intimidated honest citizens to prevent them from restoring civil order, and sent out a call for assistance from gangs in other nearby cities.

Out in the suburbs, some were saying that the Mayor and Chief Andy were imperialists who only invaded the City to further their own interests. Their suburban town was said to be intent on building an empire, and might even have engineered the bank massacre as an excuse to invade the City. Why should they support their town when they were so obviously in the wrong, and primarily acting to guarantee the profits of absentee landlords, who were obviously wealthy plutocrats? Besides, how come the Mayor and Chief Andy didn't have a workable plan to restore civil society in the City before running off to punish deprived youths whose only problem was that they had been marginalized by capitalist interests?

A Poem

La Canción Desesperada by Pablo Neruda

EMERGE tu recuerdo de la noche en que estoy.
El río anuda al mar su lamento obstinado.

Abandonado como los muelles en el alba.
Es la hora de partir, oh abandonado!

Sobre mi corazón llueven frías corolas.
Oh sentina de escombros, feroz cueva de náufragos!

En ti se acumularon las guerras y los vuelos.
De ti alzaron las alas los pájaros del canto.

Todo te lo tragaste, como la lejanía.
Como el mar, como el tiempo. Todo en ti fue
naufragio!

Era la alegre hora del asalto y el beso.
La hora del estupor que ardía como un faro.

Ansiedad de piloto, furia de buzo ciego,
turbia embriaguez de amor, todo en ti fue naufragio!

En la infancia de niebla mi alma alada y herida.
Descubridor perdido, todo en ti fue naufragio!

Te ceñiste al dolor, te agarraste al deseo.
Te tumbó la tristeza, todo en ti fue naufragio!

Hice retroceder la muralla de sombra,
anduve más allá del deseo y del acto.

Oh carne, carne mía, mujer que amé y perdí,
a ti en esta hora húmeda, evoco y hago canto.

Como un vaso albergaste la infinita ternura,
y el infinito olvido te trizó como a un vaso.

Era la negra, negra soledad de las islas,
y allí, mujer de amor, me acogieron tus brazos.

Era la sed y el hambre, y tú fuiste la fruta.
Era el duelo y las ruinas, y tú fuiste el milagro.

Ah mujer, no sé cómo pudiste contenerme
en la tierra de tu alma, y en la cruz de tus brazos!

Mi deseo de ti fue el más terrible y corto,
el más revuelto y ebrio, el más tirante y ávido.

Cementerio de besos, aún hay fuego en tus tumbas,
aún los racimos arden picoteados de pájaros.

Oh la boca mordida, oh los besados miembros,
oh los hambrientos dientes, oh los cuerpos trenzados.

Oh la cópula loca de esperanza y esfuerzo
en que nos anudamos y nos desesperamos.

Y la ternura, leve como el agua y la harina.
Y la palabra apenas comenzada en los labios.

Ése fue mi destino y en él viajó mi anhelo,
y en él cayó mi anhelo, todo en ti fue naufragio!

Oh sentina de escombros, en ti todo caía,
qué dolor no exprimiste, qué olas no te ahogaron.

De tumbo en tumbo aún llameaste y cantaste
de pie como un marino en la proa de un barco.

Aún floreciste en cantos, aún rompiste en corrientes.
Oh sentina de escombros, pozo abierto y amargo.

Pálido buzo ciego, desventurado hondero,
descubridor perdido, todo en ti fue naufragio!

Es la hora de partir, la dura y fría hora
que la noche sujeta a todo horario.

El cinturón ruidoso del mar ciñe la costa.
Surgen frías estrellas, emigran negros pájaros.

Abandonado como los muelles en el alba.
Sólo la sombra trémula se retuerce en mis manos.

Ah más allá de todo. Ah más allá de todo.

Es la hora de partir. Oh abandonado!

A Song of Despair
translated by w.s.merwin

The memory of you emerges from the night around me.
The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea.

Deserted like the dwarves at dawn.
It is the hour of departure, oh deserted one!

Cold flower heads are raining over my heart.
Oh pit of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked.

In you the wars and the flights accumulated.
From you the wings of the song birds rose.

You swallowed everything, like distance.
Like the sea, like time. In you everything sank!

It was the happy hour of assault and the kiss.
The hour of the spell that blazed like a lighthouse.

Pilot's dread, fury of blind driver,
turbulent drunkenness of love, in you everything sank!

In the childhood of mist my soul, winged and wounded.
Lost discoverer, in you everything sank!

You girdled sorrow, you clung to desire,
sadness stunned you, in you everything sank!

I made the wall of shadow draw back,
beyond desire and act, I walked on.

Oh flesh, my own flesh, woman whom I loved and lost,
I summon you in the moist hour, I raise my song to you.

Like a jar you housed infinite tenderness.
and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar.

There was the black solitude of the islands,
and there, woman of love, your arms took me in.

There was thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit.
There were grief and ruins, and you were the miracle.

Ah woman, I do not know how you could contain me
in the earth of your soul, in the cross of your arms!

How terrible and brief my desire was to you!
How difficult and drunken, how tensed and avid.

Cemetery of kisses, there is still fire in your tombs,
still the fruited boughs burn, pecked at by birds.

Oh the bitten mouth, oh the kissed limbs,
oh the hungering teeth, oh the entwined bodies.

Oh the mad coupling of hope and force
in which we merged and despaired.

And the tenderness, light as water and as flour.
And the word scarcely begun on the lips.

This was my destiny and in it was my voyage of my longing,
and in it my longing fell, in you everything sank!

Oh pit of debris, everything fell into you,
what sorrow did you not express, in what sorrow are you not
drowned!

From billow to billow you still called and sang.
Standing like a sailor in the prow of a vessel.

You still flowered in songs, you still brike the currents.
Oh pit of debris, open and bitter well.

Pale blind diver, luckless slinger,
lost discoverer, in you everything sank!

It is the hour of departure, the hard cold hour
which the night fastens to all the timetables.

The rustling belt of the sea girdles the shore.
Cold stars heave up, black birds migrate.

Deserted like the wharves at dawn.
Only tremulous shadow twists in my hands.

Oh farther than everything. Oh farther than everything.

It is the hour of departure. Oh abandoned one!