Well Papa, who is to make the decision as to what is moral? You? MRD? The left or the right? How about the majority? Or the minority?Originally Posted by Papewaio
The assumption is that the Global War on Terrorism is a moral error and that the troops are to blame. Despite what the fickle public may think, one way or the other, the morality of the policy decision rests on the public not the troops.
The public elects leaders who establish policy and troops are employed to enforce policy. You want blame for something you see as a failure? Blame yourselves.
Where are all the protestors? Where is the uproar over the so-called lies? I'll tell you where: Driving around in their F-ing escalades while moaning to other self-education policy analysts on their cell phones in ignorant safety. A safety that the troops provide. And those who don't think our military provides safety live in a F-ing dreamworld baby.
One of the things I remeber distinctly after coming back from Afghanistan is how ignorantly blissful the American Public is. All our security is just a raw egg with a 40lb hammer dangling above. Its totally illusory, impermanent, and just waiting to be snapped.
One day, as you pick your children up from soccer practice, you will see a bright orb on the horizon, brighter than the sun. If you live after the shockwave, then you will stumble through the crowds of screaming, thirsty, burnt crowds, looking for help from the government. As you pass little rows of cookie-cutter houses and toppled black cars under a shadowed sky, you will imagine you are dreaming. And then you will finally reach a radio, and surrounded by men and women just like yourself, you will learn of the first nuclear terrorist attack on western soil: in a city near your suburb.
Or how about this: You wake to your alarm clock as you do every day, but you feel sick, really sick. Sweat pours down your face but you still feel cold. You call to your wife and realize that she is still asleep. Sluggishly, you make your way to the kitchen, looking for some cold medicine. As you try to shake off the illness, you realize just how crappy you feel. You go to the phone to call your office, but there is no dial tone. Odd, you think. So you start to go back to your room to find your cellphone when you happen to walk by the window. The neighboring avenue, normally busy with vehicle traffic, is completely quite. Attempting to shake off the heavy ill feeling, you take a close look outside, squinting against the early morning sun. You see several cars in the road, and they look to be stalled. Several are off to the side of the road, and you make out a woman on the ground next to her car with the passenger door open; she's laying on her side and clutching a child. Neither are moving. In a dull shock, you run to your front door and open it wide. You immediately feel heavier, stunned, and far colder. As you collapse to your knees you see your neighbor's body in the driveway next to his SUV. The coffee mug is next to him, and the liquid trails down into the street. As you curl into a ball, you feel immense sharp pain throughout your spine as it tenses as hard as a rock. You pass out before it breaks on its own.
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