Thursday, May 28, 2009

99 bottles of something unspeakable on the wall

Seymour Hersh was talking about this stuff years ago, but it got swept under the rug pretty quickly.

Now it's coming out, whether the current administration likes it or not. I have relatives in Afghanistan right now, and I understand the urge to avoid inflaming international anger at Americans, but guess what? That ship has already sailed, and trying to pretend these crimes never happened isn't exactly going to make the world love us again. The only way out is to confront this directly. The depraved specimens who engineered all this are not only walking free, but they get to spout their opinions on TV as if they are wise, venerable policy experts, rather than the twisted monsters that they are. If we ever hope to be readmitted into the civilized world, a full accounting of the deeds of these vile pseudo-Christian pseudo-patriots is way past due.

Should the photos be released? Yes, but under carefully controlled conditions. Every time Dick Cheney or any of his devoted media enablers appears on TV, a slideshow of these incriminating shots should be displayed on the screen as long as they are speaking. Then the viewers will be able to interpret their remarks in the proper context.

But wait...there's more, courtesy of Sadly No! How they deal with this in other countries. Why's it so hard to get it in the "land of the free"?

UPDATING AGAIN: Fred at Slacktivist despairs for the state of Christianity in America. Funny how every one of these blog comment threads always ends up hijacked by someone breathlessly spouting, "But what if there was a ticking time bomb?" Once again, TV has done its job well. Me, I'm with David Foster Wallace in the post above.

(Here's the source of the subject line, written in 2001. It already felt back then like bad things were coming. Not from our "enemies", but from "us". Sometimes I don't like being proven right.)

"You're either on the bus or you're off of the bus!"
The driver's voice crackles through the speakers
As the highway to Hell unfolds like a yellow brick road
We're checking the map as we quell our reservations
With biker crank and Prozac
99 bottles of something unspeakable on the wall
Take one down...pass it around.


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