Work (I won’t call it duty) calls and finds me at the keyboard when I should be doing something that a lot of brothers are unable to do today: enjoying their families.
In between flashes of corporate panic I find myself visiting the ‘sphere and taking note of those who are intentionally still blogging today, especially the vets who should bloody well know better. I give exceptions to those who post something maudlin and rambling after the grill has been extinguished, the relatives have left and Mr. Daniels has unlocked the emotional vault (if you are in that state and the post time is before 22:00, dude, you have a problem).
One of my favorite haunts recently mentioned the business development efforts of Blackwater. Some color their lobbying as crass capitalism but the firm isn’t asking to solve a border dispute, they’re thinking of liberating the oppressed. While the “international community” argues over propriety, the rapes, dismemberments, and bodies pile up. One wonders if the standard UN course of action for dealing with Nth-world garden spots is: wait long enough and maybe they’ll all be dead by the time we show up.
Even if they did show up what would be the end result? The blue helmets that don’t abuse the few remaining unarmed children will stand aside and watch while the atrocities continue. Don’t do them any favors, Kofi.
It is true that PMC troopers get compensated handsomely for their time and expertise, but then so do the governments that send “peacekeepers.” If it were it not for these assignments certain national coffers would be significantly lighter indeed, so spare me talk of “mercenaries.”
Two things to reminisce on this Memorial Day: Those who died trying to help those who could not help themselves and those who died because others could not be bothered.
Update: Max Boot joins the chorus.
