May 23, 2010 - May 16, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
Speakers of Truth
who speak the truth in this regime are regarded as rats.
. What better proof can you have of gangster politics -- more
the "Chicago Machine" -- than the fact that its minions are so
terrified of pissing off the don that they're prepared to make utter
fools of themselves in public by denying even the most obvious of
who keeps scurrying for the corners like a trapped rodent?
That's why I want to give full marks to Doctor
for identifying the real bottom-line cause of the Tea Partiers:
The American people tired of
being lied to.
tired of being defrauded. We’ve had it with fabulously expensive
programs that do nothing but enhance the power of those who administer
them. We reject the tired excuse that government only fails when it’s
not big enough
. We know the romance
of the State
is a lie. The evidence of its failure is piling up
around us, at a rapidly accelerating pace.
He's right. That's the part of the Tea Party phenomenon that is
Obama-centric, though it has
nothing whatever to do with race. The man is 100 percent committed to
lying. Not just the convenient political lies and evasions we were able
to correct for with Bill Clinton, but massive, soul-deep lies about his
intentions, his relation to the country he leads, and to the world
beyond our borders that simultaneously loves, hates, fears, and
(historically) depends upon the United States. Sure, he tells low
political lies, every damn day, but what has people in the streets are
the vastly bigger whoppers that he is the president of all of us, that
he loves America, that he's a capitalist in good standing, and that he
is committed to defending both the Constitution and American citizens
from all threats foreign and domestic. His stock in trade is the BIG
LIE, taken to a scale that trivializes even the standard liberal Big
Lies Democrats have used to demonize Republicans since the 1960s.
More than we've ever needed them before, we need speakers of truth who
aren't frightened into silence by the spreading shadow of Obamordor
When he maunders on about social justice, redistributing wealth, and
taxing the rich "who got us into this mess," we need blunt
counterweights like Chris
, who this week threw down a heavy
Do not mess with the Fat Man, you silly
Democrats. In what may be the fastest veto in recorded history, it took
New Jersey Governor Chris Christie a reported two minutes to veto a new
tax grab by an incoherent Democrat State Senate that clearly hasn't
realized their rubber-stamp puppet Jonny the Beard is no longer in
It took about two minutes from the time
Senate President Steve Sweeney certified the passage of the
millionaires tax package for Gov. Chris Christie to veto the bills at
"While I have little doubt that the sponsors and supporters of this
bill sincerely believe that the state can tax its way out of this
financial crisis, I believe that this bill does nothing more than
repeat the failed, irresponsible and unsustainable fiscal policies of
the past," wrote Christie in his veto statement. "Now is not the time
for more of the same. Ultimately, another tax increase will punish the
state’s struggling small businesses and set our economy further back
Of course cutting taxes would help stimulate our economy but Democrats
have never been known to pay attention to reality.
After the state Senate passed the bill,
which had already passed the Assembly, Sweeney walked the bills down
the hallways of the Statehouse, from the state Senate chambers to the
governor's office. Once inside, he handed the bills to Christie, who
"What took you so long ?" asked Christie spokesman Michael Drewniak.
Christie sat at a wooden desk emblazoned with the seal of the state of
New Jersey and swiftly signed vetoes.
"We'll be back, governor," said Sweeney.
"All right. We'll see," said Christie.
I love JammieWearingFool's locution, "The Fat Man." It's
surreptitiously Shakespearean, recalling the line from Julius Caesar
, "Yon Cassius hath a
lean and hungry look." As Obama most definitely does. I can see the
bumper stickers now: I'M FOR THE FAT MAN IN 2012. Something about prosperity and gruff candor, as opposed to plots and weaseling grudges.
When Obama bows and scrapes to our enemies and brushes off our friends
and ignores the slaps and sleights and outrages committed daily against
the country he's sworn to protect, we need unblinking truthtellers like
. You have to read the whole thing if you don't take any
other link here. It's that important. I'm not bottom-lining it here.
Can't be done. I'm just showing him off:
The real news is that already notorious
photo: the president of Brazil, our largest ally in Latin America, and
the prime minister of Turkey, for more than half a century the Muslim
anchor of NATO, raising hands together with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the
most virulently anti-American leader in the world.
That picture -- a defiant, triumphant take-that-Uncle-Sam -- is a
crushing verdict on the Obama foreign policy. It demonstrates how
rising powers, traditional American allies, having watched this
administration in action, have decided that there's no cost in lining
up with America's enemies and no profit in lining up with a U.S.
president given to apologies and appeasement.
They've watched President Obama's humiliating attempts to appease Iran,
as every rejected overture is met with abjectly renewed U.S.
negotiating offers. American acquiescence reached such a point that the
president was late, hesitant and flaccid in expressing even rhetorical
support for democracy demonstrators who were being brutally suppressed
and whose call for regime change offered the potential for the most
significant U.S. strategic advance in the region in 30 years.
As with the Fat Man we can also join The Hammer to our legion of
But we need more than superheroes. We need people in all walks of life
to be proof against 'well-intentioned' (i.e., pusillanimous) compromise.
When powerful men like Eric Holder go around Robin's Hood barn to
defend the indefensible, we also need less powerful men of good
conscience to stand up against absurdity (and atrocity
whenever and wherever it appears. Here's one important example
In recent days, some of us have been
ranting about the American Academy
of Pediatrics, and its softening on FGM, or female genital mutilation —
more modern and “sensitive” types call it FGC, for “female genital
cutting.” The AAP has a rival, apparently: the ACP, or American College
of Pediatricians. The latter group has just come out with a strong,
unequivocal statement against FGM, FGC, whatever — a nasty practice,
which Americans should think twice before tolerating. For the ACP’s
press release, go here
Three cheers for the ACP.
And three cheers withdrawn for the whole "Draw Muhammed Day" debacle.
Check your courage before
throw your hat into the ring of fire. That's another important lesson.
AllahPundit got snotty with me when I pointed out that I'd notified him of this
well before he linked to the "Draw Muhammed Day" exercise in
sheep warfare (whose original proposer has since retreated in an ebb
tide of apology and fear). Of course, what happened on May
was what I figured would happen. People had enough time to think
about it, get scared, and toss up a cloud of posturing bullshit
demonstrating the rank, stinking cowardice of journalists and bloggers in the west. (Hi, Allah!)
's courageous protest drawing:
Note, too, that Hotair
-- which also didn't participate, brave souls they -- called this,
"…clever. A bit of a cop out, but clever."
Yeah. When extortion with the threat of deadly violence is on the
table, the best possible response is, uh, "clever."
The InstaPunk image the fearless bloggers of Hotair assured me they
never saw and so couldn't link:
Here's what I'm asking of you. Find the brave ones. The speakers of
truth wherever they are. Not the ranters or bomb-throwers. The ones
who, as Howard Cosell used to say, tell it like it is. You find me the
heroes, and I'll give the readers here the links.
Something else that doesn't pass muster in the 'courage' or 'truth'
department. Linking people who truly
don't give a shit about Islamic extortion while you continue to hide
behind wry platitudes. Hotair just linked this
from Iowahawk. Like they get to borrow his
brazen while they
hide inside their newfound
"journalistic objectivity." Kewl. Sick-making. If Hotair runs that one
Muhammed cartoon its author has
already paid for one more time as proof of their
publishing fearlessness, I
promise you I'm going to invent a way to throw up through the
intertubes on a website of my choosing.
Is anybody else getting sick of the NEW mainstream media? Podcasts and contracts and cable news gigs and seeing both sides and patriotic moderation and pure C-O-W-A-R-D-I-C-E when there's really something important on the line. Like, say, the First Amendment. Which is when "clever" is enough. Really, Ed? Really, Allah? So 'clever' of you.ADDENDUM.
I like the way libs are thinking they've trounced the Tea
Partiers because Rand Paul won his primary. But their only power is
misdirection. They don't understand the problem they're facing. They
think they've found an emblematic victim. All they've found is an
may yet win
. It can't turn back the tide, which is
pitilessly against them:
Yes, the Pauls seem clothed in mithril. (We suspect they have curly
feet to go with their curly toupees.) And they're fucking crazy. But
they've served admirably as the distractions we need to storm the
supreme Obama soviet.The more they make the Pauls the face of the Tea
Partiers, the more time we have to make the real argument: No traitor
should be president of the United States. We don't need a Sauron.
Not now. Not ever.
Got a response from Doc Zero, but there's no sign he was aware of the
slam at his host website (or my PS or Addendum). He's not responsible for my piling on. I am. So he
shouldn't be punished at Hotair for saying this on my email:
Nicely done! Nothing baffles me
more about the average, middle-of-the-road Democrat voter than their
perpetual surprise at being lied to... which often manifests as a
frenzied hatred of anyone who exposes the lies of their
leadership. I've seen decent, generally affable people reduced to
shivering rage while trying to process the latest Obama scam.
Both politicians and private citizens may see advantages from
committing fraud, but the politician is far more likely to get away
with it. How many private entities are still going concerns after
decades of being caught repeatedly lying to the public, on a massive
scale... let alone larger and more powerful than ever?
This whole rotten system of political hacks dodging responsibility for
disasters they never saw coming will fall apart on the day we either
refuse to be hoodwinked, or no longer have anything worth stealing.
Though I suspect he will be punished. Let's hope not. I apologize if
I've compromised his New Media credentials. Everybody: pretend you
didn't see the Doc Zero part. The best outcome will be that we never
hear from him again. He'll learn that InstaPunk is persona non grata in
the mainstream blog revolt against the mainstream media. With any luck,
we'll see him soon on Fox & Friends. Unless he's who we think he
really is, namely, an honest man.
AllahPundit is angry. I sent him a link to this post, and he sent me
I'm not going to harrumph at you about
anything. Here are the facts: You've been endlessly and
needlessly antagonistic towards me for months. You ripped me to
shreds in one post and I was enough of a good sport about it to
actually link it in Headlines. Then you sent me a tip about a
post which I never saw and you instantly presumed bad faith about
that. Now you're calling me a coward for not participating in
Everybody Draw Mohammed Day even though Ed and I both repeatedly use
thumbnails of the super-incendiary Mohammed cartoons to illustrate our
posts about it. And then you claim that both Ed and I have gotten
"carried away" with our careers, which means ... I'm not even sure
what. That I'm a phony and you're real. Or rather, "REAL."
You have some sort of chip on your shoulder about me, which is
perfectly fine -- there are others who do too -- but you're the only
one who seems to feel compelled to e-mail me to tell me just how little
you think of me. I get it, okay? You're REAL and Ed and I
aren't. Loud and clear. And incidentally, since you're
ripping on Ed, don't you think he should be cc'd on these harangues?
So I replied thus.
Glad to hear from you. You and Ed are
in business. I have no problem with that. I'm a curmudgeon. I don't
think you should have a problem with that. I tend to assume, perhaps
wrongly, that when I send you something you find volatile, Ed will hear
about it. And vice versa. I'm thinking I do a much better job of
letting people I criticize know that I've criticized them than others
do, but perhaps you can enlighten me about that.
That you chose this moment to blast me tells me you might be feeling
guilty. You posted the Draw Muhammed Day post and ignored my post.
Maybe it was a mistake. Fine.
I don't think the sun rises and sets on what I do. But I know that I
consistently write better stuff than what you post in your Green Room.
If I'm crabby, you're arrogant. I volunteered to debate you about your
constant, deadeningly dull atheist pose, which I'd do fairly and
rationally, but you choose to ignore me. I've complimented you every
bit as much as I've criticized you, and I hat-tip you both all the
time, but you and Ed both have an "I'm a star now" complex which I
understand but feel free to call out. I'm part of your audience, the
part that sends you readers regularly, a cut above your typical
commenters, who don't spell, think, or write well.
Here's the deal. I don't need your approval. I'm a writer in my own
right. I have no desire to have podcasts, book contracts, or FNS
interviews. I was on the Internet before you, writing a blog before
there was even a name for it:
I'd actually like to be your friend. But you've been pretty much of
a jerk to me. As has Ed.
I'd be happy to start over. The only thing I want is the occasional
link when I write a good post, which I do at least as often as those
The Muhammed deal was especially galling to me. You have used the same
cartoon for months as if it were bravery, but it isn't. And you know it
isn't. You're hedging your bets. I understand that. Nobody wants to
die. At first I thought Allah is trying to protect me: it's suicide to
depict Muhammed as, of all things, a Jew, let alone Groucho Marx. Your
email disabused me of that.
I'm not here to become famous. I'm here to fight for my country. AND to
fight for the Jews, so there won't be a second holocaust. Do a search
at Instapunk for the terms Jews, holocaust, genocide, israel.
Hell, do a search at instapunk for any and every great issue of the
day. I think you'll find I've written more diligently and
thoughtfully on any issue you could name than you or Ed have.
I'm NOT your enemy. But I'm weary of the celebrity game. Which you ARE
playing, whether you admit it or or not. Ace of Spades is a lot nastier
and more profane than I am. He just doesn't criticize prominent
right-wing blogs. I do. Who's edgier in that respect?
So. Here I am. Humbling myself. I ask only that you give me the even
break of reading my stuff in the way that MacLeod and Doc Zero do. In
return I promise to stop criticizing your writing, Ed's writing, though
not your logic or lack of it. All I I'm asking for is a voice in the
fight. And I DO have something to bring to that fight.
And so it goes.
So now Allah is really really
"I can't decide if you don't realize
how insulting you are, if you do realize it and simply enjoy being
insulting, or if you think that being insulting is proof somehow that
you're a "straight shooter" who won't kiss the ass of a self-styled
"celebrity" like me. But since we're not getting anywhere with
these back and forths, this will be my last response to you." [It goes
on like this for a while.]
And here's my response:
Fine. You're right. I'm insulting.
Sorry. I was fighting this fight long before you got your first
keyboard. I knew the war we're fighting now was coming 40 years ago.
What pisses me off is how weak our side is. Why do the libs laugh at us
and demean us? Because our side can't write a goddam sentence without
making some dumb basic error. I'm older than you, I've spent a lifetime
writing, and it all matters to me. You can dance all you want around
the "celebrity" label, but you're making a living doing this. I'm not.
I'm doing it because I can't not
do it with so much at stake.
I apologize for noticing that I can't read a single post by you or Ed
without wanting to rewrite it. Do you know what that's like? No. Of
course not. I chastised Jonah Goldberg for a consistent error he was
making, and he apologized within the hour. I'm not saying you don't
have good ideas and decent insights. But you're an embarrassment. And
poses you assume, like your atheism and beta male identity, are worse
than embarrassing. They're just dumb.
If you ever bothered to read InstaPunk, you'd see that it's the most
thoughtful and LIVING conservative blog on the Internet. We talk about
everything from hummingbirds to movies to family travails to physics to
sports, before we even approach politics, which we do in a way no one
But you never have bothered to read InstaPunk. Which is how I know who
you are. If someone "insulted" me, I can assure you I'd read everything
they wrote to find out why and from where they dared to do so.
I'm sorriest about the fact that you're exactly who I feared you were.
I don't need Hotair. But you
need an elder who doesn't tolerate your fakery and posturing. I'm 56
years old. I'd bet a bunch you don't don't know anything more about me
than that. Which is your loss. Big time. If you wanted to learn to
write, I could teach you. But I'm thinking you don't. That's too bad.
Not a tragedy or my secret revenge. Just too bad. Because our country
needs people like you to know how to write.
I SAY: BELIEVE
. In the case of you do not know about that picture,
it is from the crush of the InstaPunk Phyler make by my Montreal
Candians in Thursday night. In that picture, I think it is when
the Phyler goalie start to cry about all the goal that are score to
him. But I must make the digression. I do not come to make offend
on the fan of the Phyler here. I already say that I know my Habs
win the Stanley Cup this year and I am sorry about the sadness of the
Philadelphia persons. Instead I come to address two issue.
First, I need say the Punks tell me they are happy to hear the new
but about the fact checkings maybe I am not so careful when I write.
They say the post
have many error about things that are not so
to take a note while they tell me all these things for make a
corrections, but I already am go to the liquor store for the evening
and find it hard to hear everything what they say. One note that I do
on my sheet is about the mistake with who the Philadelphia football
team make a trade on.
I say they trade
the Michael McVick, but they actually trade his brother, Donovan. But
still Michael McVick is the one who kill the dogs, and I am many anger
Which prove a rule about why you should not trust the persons of Irish.
There are other mistake, too, but you see I am not serious journalist
of the big times, like your Keith
. I am only
Puck Punk, with knowledge and love of the hockey, which I try
to tell you about because so many American miss this wonderful sport.
So I start to think maybe American does not care about the hockey
you do not have the understandings. Even InstaPunk
he is l'confuze
about the rule in the hockey. So I decide
I must explain to my foreign friends about some important things and
then we all will love the hockey.
I am watch a game of the hockey when the offsides is call and my
say, "Huh? What happen?" or as the internet American say, "WTF?"
Then I explain about how is so simple.
field of the
As you see above, there is the big red line in middle of the ice. Then
the two blue line on each side of red middle line, and
the space after the blue line with the goal make the offend zone. No
man is allow to be all the way across the blue on the offend
unless the puck go across first. If the defenses get the puck back all
past their blue line, then the offend players must all touch the blue
they can go back to the offend zone, and when they go back the puck
again must go before any offend player. If the rule is break, then the
offsides is call and a faceoff happen.
I try to make the explain of this to my American friends, but I make
only half through my talking when a glaze come on their eyes and they
tell me the hockey is so hard to understand and they ask for me to stop
talking. But when we watch the
anyfell football and I ask a question like, "Why is this team allow to
advance the ball just because their ball kicker falls down?" they only
me, "Shhhh! I try to watch game!"
And at least the hockey offside only makes a faceoff. In the
anyfell the offside make the ball move more close and close to the In Zone,
where the goal happen.
Why? No one can explain this. And still my American friends say they
are confuse about why players in the hockey some time will not cross
the blue line and some time will, or why it is l'import for the
defenses to push the puck across the blue line, for then all players on
the offend must skate away, then skate back in, and they can get tired.
So during this times of the frustrate, I only grab another Molson and
try to enjoy the game to myself.
2. Power Play
- when a
penalty happen, there is the power play.
This mean the one who make the penalty must sit in the penalty box
for 2 minute and his team is short the one man. The other team now have
advantage of one man and if they score the penalty is over. The most a
team can be down at one time is two man.
of the Pittburg takes the penalty while losing to my Habs.
If it is a very bad penalty, like making the hate crime, then the time
in the box will be for 5 minute no matter even if the team score. This
is many rare, and l'especial in the playoff, because it is a big hurt
for a team to make defend of the power play for 5 minute.
thing that every body always question to me about. But it is very easy
to make the understandings of it! Remember the big red line on middle
of the ice? Well there is a smaller red line on each side of ice that
cross the goal, near of the wall. If a player on the offend shoot the
puck to other side and it is not yet cross the big line in middle, then
it cross the small red line near the goal, and the puck is first touch
by a player of the defend team, then it makes the icing and a faceoff
must happen back on other side of the ice of the team that shoot the
This rule happen so a team can not score only one goal, then only throw
the puck away across ice for rest of game while on the defend. There is
one exception of this: if a team is defend on the power play, they are
allowed to shoot puck out because they are down of persons.
This is where the strategy happen for playing the hockey.
Very most simple: this is when you take both hands on the hockey stick,
then push them out to hit the oppose player with the middle part of the
stick. Like this:
check can make any body into the monster.
So there are good explaination of the most confuse rule in the hockey.
Now we all are watching this weekend, yes? You are many welcome.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
angle? Just one more personal 'coincidence.'
Yesterday was my dad's birthday. He'd be 88
if he hadn't died more than
ten years ago. It was also a day when Mrs. IP had jury duty and was
staying home till court convened, so I dallied longer in the morning
before getting to work. Over one cup of coffee too many, I stumbled on
about a P-47 that went down in an Austrian lake on the
last day of the war in Europe. The P-47 was my dad's plane, 88 missions
worth. An international team was determined to raise it from the lake
bottom and restore it. I was hooked. The lake waters were ice cold and
short on oxygen, which meant that the wreck was probably well
preserved. As proved to be the case. The plexiglass cowling was intact,
the cockpit dials were remarkably legible, and even the lacquered
aluminum skin of the fuselage retained all its old stencilled numbers,
lettering, and American star insignia. It came up upside down but in
far better condition that it looks to the naked eye
The ailerons still worked freely.
Closeups showed the instruments muddy
but with unbroken lenses.
The .50 caliber machine guns were
the shells gleamed again after a
experts proclaimed that this plane will
I was struck by the fact that this is not my first P-47 coincidence. I
just happened to be living in Dayton, Ohio, when Wright-Patterson Air
Force Base (in Dayton) dedicated a memorial to the Twelfth
my dad served in. He flew out (commercial) for the
ceremony and that day I had my first look at a P-47 in the Wright-Patt
museum, with him there. He hadn't laid eyes on one since 1946 or
thereabouts. I also got to shake hands with a few of his surviving
fellow pilots. Seeing the old men and the plane on which their lives
depended was a strange experience. It's at such a long remove from
actual events, so evidently mothballed and still, that it seems
simultaneously unreal and hyper-real, as if the vivid past really can
bump the prosaic present into a roaring, screaming, rat-a-tat hell if
you close your eyes for just a moment. It's awkward to shake their
hands. There's nothing you can say. They know something you'll never
know and even trying to put that into words would be sacrilege. You
wind up wishing you weren't young and your clothes didn't fit.
More coincidence. A few years later I was serving as a consultant to
Whirlpool Corporation, which had an air-conditioner manufacturing plant
. I went there to conduct training and help coordinate labor
management communications. That's when I learned that the huge brick
facility with its serpentine connecting bays had been built in the
first place to assemble P-47 fighter planes. The plant was dark and
logistically difficult in terms of modern manufacturing requirements,
filled with U-turns and cul de sacs that only made sense when you
imagined their original purpose. How odd that this Jersey motorhead
would somehow get to see the plant (and descendants of the people) that
built the plane that kept his father alive so that I could be sired
after the war. No, it's not all about me. It's about the chain of
events, including U-turns and cul de sacs, that occur by apparent
happenstance to give you a fuller picture of the continuum of which you
are only the wagging tail. I was supposed to be seeing Just-in-Time
appliance manufacturing. Mostly, all I could see was P-47s creeping
though darkness to the skies of Europe.
And then one more. My dad was from southern New Jersey and he took his
flight training at Thunderbird in Arizona, but it's also perversely the
case that one of the premier P-47 training bases during WWII was in
Millville, NJ, less than 20 miles from where he, and I, were born and
grew up. Millville has never forgotten this important moment of its
, which is why the
annual Millville Air Show is one of the
biggest and best attended in the nation. Which I'd never attended until
my Navy-loving wife (I could tell you why but then I'd have to kill
you) made us go see it back in 2007
Where I saw my first P-47 outside of a museum, prepped and ready to go
on the flightline
And then, by God, flying
My dad was dead by then. but not that day, not for me.
Life is a curious thing. I never consciously sought out any of these
encounters with the past. He tried more and more over the years to make
his life story about something other than the war, which he had every
right to do. He had many accomplishments of his own, and he suffered
from the survivor's guilt we've all seen in veterans who can't be
convinced that the best and bravest didn't die in their place.
But my own life keeps bringing me back to this aspect of his
experience, which I know, as a son knows his father, both hurt him
grievously and annealed him to the ordinary hurts of so-called real
life. He may have wanted to turn his back on so much fear and pain and
testing ordeals, but I can't. I feel the phantom every time I mount a
motorcycle. If I screw up or get unlucky, I could die today. But
nobody's shooting at me when I ride. And I'm not shooting at them. A
way to stay humble as the wagging tail of the continuum.
Almost done. But one final 'coincidence' in yesterday's accidental
television rendezvous. The pilot whose plane went down in the Austrian
lake survived. He appeared in the show and recollected his rescue.
Ditching a P-47 in the water is an incredibly tricky thing. The huge
engine almost immediately plunges from the surface in a water dive. The
waters that day were brutally cold. He sank ten feet or so three times
in heavy pilot gear and fought his way back to the surface but didn't
think he'd survive a fourth dunking. But Austrian civilians saw him in
the water, and two boats raced to his aid. In fact, two women
outdistanced a surviving male (a teenager at the time) who was rowing
toward the downed pilot and plucked him from the water.
Which was eerily reminiscent of my dad's closest call in the war. He
strafed a German ship in Naples harbor, got away with it, and decided
to attempt a second pass. They blew him out of the sky and he had to
ditch in the water. Same crisis. P-47 diving nose first toward the
bottom and an over-clothed pilot struggling to stay afloat with one leg
full of shrapnel. He got rescued by a Navy PT boat, which braved all
kinds of enemy fire to salvage my dad from what he called "the
stupidest thing I've ever done." He never regarded the Purple Heart he
received as anything but a dunce cap.
I can see his point. That's how he was. Surprised and mortified when he
wasn't entirely sensible. But it's not sensible to volunteer for what
you've coldly determined is the most dangerous role in the war, is it?
That part he never successfully explained away.
Happy birthday, Dad.