10.04.09
Back before computers, when they were still performing mechanical chores by hand, a couple of the lesser angels were working in the ‘Yet To Be Born Human’ division, casually punching out chads of life force determinants on our cards and tossing them into a pile.
‘Brainpower’. Ohhh. Give him a six. No. Seven.
‘Creativity’. Nine.
‘Conscience’. Four.
A person couldn’t get all tens across the board.
It went on like that until lunch, with those two chit-chatting and executing the tedious task of hand-punching assigned characteristics, stamping instructions and encoding to make certain no two people on earth were exactly alike. When our cards came up, were we wishing they could have been more attentive and generous. Karma didn’t have anything to do with it.
‘Beats the hell out of ‘Snowflake Division’,” said one.
“Or ‘Sand’,” said the other.
They were still working on us humans;
Make them be genius off of the charts
Or fashion some painters and patrons of arts
We could make teachers and people with smarts
Or cold-blooded psychopaths born without hearts
Africa Asia Europe and Earth
Tossed into nebulae
Recurring birth
-end
.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
It's Official!
It’s Official!
April, May
Increase the Dosage
You know how every once in awhile you come up with a flash of brilliance?
Ok, let me float this by you. I’m thinking of getting together with the smartest couple of people I know…C.N., Dolly, Bryan, Stephanie, who else…?....that’d be it. Give ‘em a call, toss around the idea of coming up with a pirate mediation consulting firm.
Huh?
What do you think? I think it’s a money maker.
I think you get in there early, on the front edge of the wave. It’s already cresting. You could get FBI…international contracts…governments…
I’d be the mediation/psychologist/scam expert, and this other person…they would be the brains.
.
April, May
Increase the Dosage
You know how every once in awhile you come up with a flash of brilliance?
Ok, let me float this by you. I’m thinking of getting together with the smartest couple of people I know…C.N., Dolly, Bryan, Stephanie, who else…?....that’d be it. Give ‘em a call, toss around the idea of coming up with a pirate mediation consulting firm.
Huh?
What do you think? I think it’s a money maker.
I think you get in there early, on the front edge of the wave. It’s already cresting. You could get FBI…international contracts…governments…
I’d be the mediation/psychologist/scam expert, and this other person…they would be the brains.
.
Middle Ground
Middle Ground
Standing on the middle ground
What does it look like from here
Looking left and right
Then down
“I used to wake up in the morning and sit on the side of the bed, looking down at those black feet, thinking, ‘I wonder what today is going to be like.’"
- Harold Johnson
.
Standing on the middle ground
What does it look like from here
Looking left and right
Then down
“I used to wake up in the morning and sit on the side of the bed, looking down at those black feet, thinking, ‘I wonder what today is going to be like.’"
- Harold Johnson
.
Vulnerability
10.04.09
Hey. What's up?
Only a handful of people responded to the cat getting hit by the satellite. Nobody else thought it was funny, or what?
Planet Nevernight? Not funny?
Didn't get the Indian joke?
Times must be too serious for funny. Winter is taking too long.
ok, then. You want serious?
Vulnerability
06.04.09
A friend and I were talking about vulnerability.
That’s like Custer, before being brought to his knees, looking around at nothing but ‘hostiles’, wondering where his support group was.
It could be a mother and child in a Darfur refugee camp. It could be the homeless and the displaced. I’ve never been in a refugee camp, except for living on the reservation, but I’ve experienced what it is to be homeless in February. Where do you go when you can’t go home? Is Home no more than a function on your keyboard? Is home more than wherever you’re sleeping? Surely it is. Homelessness is vulnerability. Or it could be freedom.
Vulnerability is experiencing a particular agony, and those around you, those closest to you seem unaware or indifferent to your suffering, if there are those around you. Being vulnerable is not having a support group, not having those around you on whom you can depend, or approach for comfort. But that could be freedom, too.
Abandonment, betrayal, deception, and disregard of relationship compose a cluster of behaviors that can create vulnerabilities, the disintegration of defenses, dissolution of sense of self, a personal devaluation, a sense of being preyed upon, cast aside, leaving one feeling barren and emotionally drained, stripped of one’s armor.
“It’s like being in a jousting tournament, going up against a fully-armored opponent in just a T-shirt,” I said to him.
None of this occurs in a vacuum. Vulnerability is experienced within the context of relationships and conditions, a web of interrelationships and connectedness with all those whom you know, either by blood, intimacy, friendships, or associations of proximity. Inasmuch as this may be, one can still be disconnected and isolated.
Losing your job, your house, your home, your family, your lover, your friends, your health, your integrity, your sense of self-determination. Vulnerability could be riding a motorcycle at 100 mph in flips flops, shorts, and no helmet. Walk the high wire without a net. Be hungry, hang on a cross, at the mercy of a rapist or killer. Vulnerability could be a lot of things.
I’ve been adrift at sea in a storm, and help eventually arrived. But while out there in huge waves and out of sight of land, I experienced a profound and extreme sense of aloneness and exposure that could be defined as vulnerable. Does help always arrive? Sometimes it does, sometimes the vultures pick your bones.
The harpist and Kora player pluck their strings. The orchestra resounds. The spider does the same, seeking the vulnerable.
-end
.
The uh, Obama team called the other day. Wanted to know if I could help them 'get this thing turned around.' I told them I'd look into it and see what I could do. So, chipper up! I'm working on it.
.
Hey. What's up?
Only a handful of people responded to the cat getting hit by the satellite. Nobody else thought it was funny, or what?
Planet Nevernight? Not funny?
Didn't get the Indian joke?
Times must be too serious for funny. Winter is taking too long.
ok, then. You want serious?
Vulnerability
06.04.09
A friend and I were talking about vulnerability.
That’s like Custer, before being brought to his knees, looking around at nothing but ‘hostiles’, wondering where his support group was.
It could be a mother and child in a Darfur refugee camp. It could be the homeless and the displaced. I’ve never been in a refugee camp, except for living on the reservation, but I’ve experienced what it is to be homeless in February. Where do you go when you can’t go home? Is Home no more than a function on your keyboard? Is home more than wherever you’re sleeping? Surely it is. Homelessness is vulnerability. Or it could be freedom.
Vulnerability is experiencing a particular agony, and those around you, those closest to you seem unaware or indifferent to your suffering, if there are those around you. Being vulnerable is not having a support group, not having those around you on whom you can depend, or approach for comfort. But that could be freedom, too.
Abandonment, betrayal, deception, and disregard of relationship compose a cluster of behaviors that can create vulnerabilities, the disintegration of defenses, dissolution of sense of self, a personal devaluation, a sense of being preyed upon, cast aside, leaving one feeling barren and emotionally drained, stripped of one’s armor.
“It’s like being in a jousting tournament, going up against a fully-armored opponent in just a T-shirt,” I said to him.
None of this occurs in a vacuum. Vulnerability is experienced within the context of relationships and conditions, a web of interrelationships and connectedness with all those whom you know, either by blood, intimacy, friendships, or associations of proximity. Inasmuch as this may be, one can still be disconnected and isolated.
Losing your job, your house, your home, your family, your lover, your friends, your health, your integrity, your sense of self-determination. Vulnerability could be riding a motorcycle at 100 mph in flips flops, shorts, and no helmet. Walk the high wire without a net. Be hungry, hang on a cross, at the mercy of a rapist or killer. Vulnerability could be a lot of things.
I’ve been adrift at sea in a storm, and help eventually arrived. But while out there in huge waves and out of sight of land, I experienced a profound and extreme sense of aloneness and exposure that could be defined as vulnerable. Does help always arrive? Sometimes it does, sometimes the vultures pick your bones.
The harpist and Kora player pluck their strings. The orchestra resounds. The spider does the same, seeking the vulnerable.
-end
.
The uh, Obama team called the other day. Wanted to know if I could help them 'get this thing turned around.' I told them I'd look into it and see what I could do. So, chipper up! I'm working on it.
.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Yo, Tunkashila
07.04.09
KHUK KHAK, Thailand - This young Indian guy was getting ready to 'go up on the hill,' to hanblecheya, to vision quest, so they took him into lodge (sweat lodge, purification lodge) beforehand, and the guy says, "I don't know how to pray. I've never prayed before."
Those guys in there told him, "Just pray using your own language."
So the guy says, "Yo, Tunkashila.* I scored you some tobacco ties and was wondering if you could hook me up with some prayer requests, yo."
And those guys in there said to him, "Heyyyyyy, you can't talk to him like that."
*Lakota name for God
-end
.
KHUK KHAK, Thailand - This young Indian guy was getting ready to 'go up on the hill,' to hanblecheya, to vision quest, so they took him into lodge (sweat lodge, purification lodge) beforehand, and the guy says, "I don't know how to pray. I've never prayed before."
Those guys in there told him, "Just pray using your own language."
So the guy says, "Yo, Tunkashila.* I scored you some tobacco ties and was wondering if you could hook me up with some prayer requests, yo."
And those guys in there said to him, "Heyyyyyy, you can't talk to him like that."
*Lakota name for God
-end
.
Monday, April 06, 2009
Brovic To Stop Signing Autographs
05.03.09
KHUK KHAK, Thailand - A friend of the spokesman for Brovic said today the spokesman said that Brovic said he will no longer be signing autographs, because he is 'a very busy man.'
"I'm a busy man. I'm a terribly busy man," he reportedly said.
The friend of the spokesman said the spokesman said Brovic said he has been innundated with autograph requests since his latest release, and people had been submitting 'all sorts of sh..,' the guy said, for him to sign.
On his website, he posted a video message to his fans about the conditions surrounding his release, and at the end asked them to stop requesting autographs, and to please desist in sending items to be autographed.
"Peace and Love, and all that," he said, "but for shitssake, stop sending me stuff to sign. I'm a biddy man. I'm a terribly biddy main."
Since his release, he has been seen running around on a Honda Wave 125. On his website, he said he is currently 'heavily involved with the shower caddy recall work, and still working on the lighting at my place.'
Brovic is the former drummer with a popular 1960s pop group, The Beatles.
-end
(this story was a take-off on a news release this date from Ringo Starr).
.
KHUK KHAK, Thailand - A friend of the spokesman for Brovic said today the spokesman said that Brovic said he will no longer be signing autographs, because he is 'a very busy man.'
"I'm a busy man. I'm a terribly busy man," he reportedly said.
The friend of the spokesman said the spokesman said Brovic said he has been innundated with autograph requests since his latest release, and people had been submitting 'all sorts of sh..,' the guy said, for him to sign.
On his website, he posted a video message to his fans about the conditions surrounding his release, and at the end asked them to stop requesting autographs, and to please desist in sending items to be autographed.
"Peace and Love, and all that," he said, "but for shitssake, stop sending me stuff to sign. I'm a biddy man. I'm a terribly biddy main."
Since his release, he has been seen running around on a Honda Wave 125. On his website, he said he is currently 'heavily involved with the shower caddy recall work, and still working on the lighting at my place.'
Brovic is the former drummer with a popular 1960s pop group, The Beatles.
-end
(this story was a take-off on a news release this date from Ringo Starr).
.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
When Hungry Animals Show
05.04.09
KHUK KHAK, Thailand - There is this black bob-tail cat that showed up a couple of weeks ago, hungrier than hell, and kept following me around, everywhere, in the yard, in the house, everywhere, until I fed it. Then it left me alone for awhile. Almost stepped on it six, seventeen times.
I suppose I could put it out, but I enjoy the breeze through the open door, and putting the cat out seemed unnecessarily cruel. It's pregnant, Damon says.
The other neighbor, my Turkish neighbor, thinks the Thai cut the cat's tail, but I think it's genetic. You see that kind verywhere. It likes to curl up on the chair, where it is now. I don't pay it much mind, except once when it jumped up on the counter, and I yelled at it, "GET DOWN FROM THERE! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND???"
Then the dogs saw the cat in the house, and they thought maybe they could come in too, like, 'The door's open.' I said something along the same vein to the dogs. None of these animals are mine, mind you. Them or the chickens.
There is a rooster and a hen, and then seven hens, that like to come scratch around in my compost pile and eat the rice I put out for the songbirds that come every day. I think they lay their eggs and roost over at the neighbor's house, between here and the wat, the temple, Komaneeyakhet, or 'Khuk Khak temple', as they say, shaving off one syllable.
The main bitch dog, just a pup herself, but growing into a really good watch dog with a change of voice, commanding the corner, is 'Chuga' (Sugar, in English), or 'Trinkle' ('like, the cereal,' Damon says), both of which she does not respond to, especially when going after the dozens of Myanmar who pass by here every day on foot, bicycle, and motorbike on their way to work at the big hotel on the beach. She even chases after them in their trucks, and two dozen in the back of a big truck. The Thai, she leaves alone.
"She must've been beaten by the Myanmar," said Damon, the British tattooed biker who lives at the other end of this row of shop-houses, none of which contain a shop, incidentally, and subsequently, the owner has morphed them into residential units over the past four years. Chuga guards the whole place.
She guards the whole place, and is teaching the little black pup, 'Batfink', what it means to be a guard dog.
"Because his ears look like a bat," said Damon. And they do.
At first, Chuga didn't want to share the food, even though there was two servings, one big, one little, and you can kind of see how she might think it was all hers, but we told her, 'Look, its gotta eat. You're the one who brought her here. You're the one who wanted a playmate."
They play, but Chuga punishes that little black bitch DAILY. You can hear her yelping and crying around, day or night. That's why when you toss down their food, like, chicken, you've got to toss Chuga's over way over there, and then toss the black dog's food at her feet, which she'll at first run from, then grab it and high-tail it around the wall behind the complex that holds back the jungle.
Anyway, they're hanging around down at this end, because Damon is sporadically around and unreliable on the food dish, although he is the one who originally began feeding Chuga when she showed up from the Myanmar camp, ribs showing, determined to find a new home.
So, Chuga is the main bitch dog here on the corner, and everyone, the Thai, the vendors, the tourists, and especially the Myanmar who pass here, know it. There are people she likes, and doesn't bother, and there are people she doesn't like. She's got their number, and they have hers.
So, to keep those songbirds coming, I've got to put out rice, and to keep the cat happy so it won't kill the songbirds, I've got to feed it canned tuna, and a couple of chicken wings about once a week, and I've got to feed the dogs to keep them from killing the chickens who come to eat the rice.
None of these animals are mine, mind you. It's a Catch-22 situation, an either/or scenario, a damned if you do - damned if you don't predicament, a...you see what I'm saying.
"I don't know who invited this cat in here," I said to Damon, nodding at the cat sprawled flat out in the back doorway.
"Cats lay around where they feel comfortable," he replied.
And I was thinking, then said it aloud at the cat, who apparently didn't get the message, not stirring, not flicking the tail, not batting an eyelash, "Don't get TOO comfortable around here."
For the benefit of Damon, I called it a nasty name, just to indicate it wasn't welcome, and to demonstrate my profane side, but Damon knows I'm not a biker, and knew I was only feigning dislike for the cat.
___
This story is soooo lame. I know it, but I'm going to let it fly for two reasons; one, it's exercise; two, it's for you animal lovers; and three, because it's better (to me) than writing about:
- the economy
- global warming
- mass murder/suicides
- what Nikolas Sarkozy's wife's wearing today
- who got bumped of American Idol
-end
.
KHUK KHAK, Thailand - There is this black bob-tail cat that showed up a couple of weeks ago, hungrier than hell, and kept following me around, everywhere, in the yard, in the house, everywhere, until I fed it. Then it left me alone for awhile. Almost stepped on it six, seventeen times.
I suppose I could put it out, but I enjoy the breeze through the open door, and putting the cat out seemed unnecessarily cruel. It's pregnant, Damon says.
The other neighbor, my Turkish neighbor, thinks the Thai cut the cat's tail, but I think it's genetic. You see that kind verywhere. It likes to curl up on the chair, where it is now. I don't pay it much mind, except once when it jumped up on the counter, and I yelled at it, "GET DOWN FROM THERE! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND???"
Then the dogs saw the cat in the house, and they thought maybe they could come in too, like, 'The door's open.' I said something along the same vein to the dogs. None of these animals are mine, mind you. Them or the chickens.
There is a rooster and a hen, and then seven hens, that like to come scratch around in my compost pile and eat the rice I put out for the songbirds that come every day. I think they lay their eggs and roost over at the neighbor's house, between here and the wat, the temple, Komaneeyakhet, or 'Khuk Khak temple', as they say, shaving off one syllable.
The main bitch dog, just a pup herself, but growing into a really good watch dog with a change of voice, commanding the corner, is 'Chuga' (Sugar, in English), or 'Trinkle' ('like, the cereal,' Damon says), both of which she does not respond to, especially when going after the dozens of Myanmar who pass by here every day on foot, bicycle, and motorbike on their way to work at the big hotel on the beach. She even chases after them in their trucks, and two dozen in the back of a big truck. The Thai, she leaves alone.
"She must've been beaten by the Myanmar," said Damon, the British tattooed biker who lives at the other end of this row of shop-houses, none of which contain a shop, incidentally, and subsequently, the owner has morphed them into residential units over the past four years. Chuga guards the whole place.
She guards the whole place, and is teaching the little black pup, 'Batfink', what it means to be a guard dog.
"Because his ears look like a bat," said Damon. And they do.
At first, Chuga didn't want to share the food, even though there was two servings, one big, one little, and you can kind of see how she might think it was all hers, but we told her, 'Look, its gotta eat. You're the one who brought her here. You're the one who wanted a playmate."
They play, but Chuga punishes that little black bitch DAILY. You can hear her yelping and crying around, day or night. That's why when you toss down their food, like, chicken, you've got to toss Chuga's over way over there, and then toss the black dog's food at her feet, which she'll at first run from, then grab it and high-tail it around the wall behind the complex that holds back the jungle.
Anyway, they're hanging around down at this end, because Damon is sporadically around and unreliable on the food dish, although he is the one who originally began feeding Chuga when she showed up from the Myanmar camp, ribs showing, determined to find a new home.
So, Chuga is the main bitch dog here on the corner, and everyone, the Thai, the vendors, the tourists, and especially the Myanmar who pass here, know it. There are people she likes, and doesn't bother, and there are people she doesn't like. She's got their number, and they have hers.
So, to keep those songbirds coming, I've got to put out rice, and to keep the cat happy so it won't kill the songbirds, I've got to feed it canned tuna, and a couple of chicken wings about once a week, and I've got to feed the dogs to keep them from killing the chickens who come to eat the rice.
None of these animals are mine, mind you. It's a Catch-22 situation, an either/or scenario, a damned if you do - damned if you don't predicament, a...you see what I'm saying.
"I don't know who invited this cat in here," I said to Damon, nodding at the cat sprawled flat out in the back doorway.
"Cats lay around where they feel comfortable," he replied.
And I was thinking, then said it aloud at the cat, who apparently didn't get the message, not stirring, not flicking the tail, not batting an eyelash, "Don't get TOO comfortable around here."
For the benefit of Damon, I called it a nasty name, just to indicate it wasn't welcome, and to demonstrate my profane side, but Damon knows I'm not a biker, and knew I was only feigning dislike for the cat.
___
This story is soooo lame. I know it, but I'm going to let it fly for two reasons; one, it's exercise; two, it's for you animal lovers; and three, because it's better (to me) than writing about:
- the economy
- global warming
- mass murder/suicides
- what Nikolas Sarkozy's wife's wearing today
- who got bumped of American Idol
-end
.
Friday, April 03, 2009
Airport Baggage Handlers Stealing From Passenger Baggage
Theft at Most Major Airports
03.04.09
Oh my gosh!
Is this news to anyone?
.
03.04.09
Oh my gosh!
Is this news to anyone?
.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
New Planet Discovered
02.04.09
Astronomers Discover New Planet
GENEVA - “It was more like something you’d feel, but couldn’t prove,” said Guralkowsy Guralkowsky, premiere guru of astronomy at the Mt. Temple Observatory in Leipzig. "That's how close it is."
The Guralkowsky team discovered the new planet in a recent article in this month’s edition of Space magazine. The discovery is being hailed as ‘revolutionary’ that will forever change our knowledge of our solar system.
The planet, named, ‘Nevernight’, sits inside Mars, a mere stone's throw from Earth, is undectable to the human eye, and has seven times the mass of Jupiter, something that scientists will muddle over for years to come.
“We never noticed it before,” said the animated Guralkowsky. “Galileo, Copernicus, Kepler…all those guys…we never noticed it before. It’s not because it was obscured by the sun in some kind of cosmic hide a seek scenario,” he said, hunching down, looking around like a kid on an Easter egg hunt. “It’s because it’s never night there…all the time. Just think…the stars are never out,” he said, his eyes wide with bewilderment. “Wow!”
"The find substantiates Hubble data that has been used to look at over 200 stars with coronagraphy, looking for planets and disks. We plan to go back and look at all of those archived images and see if anything can be detected that has gone undetected until now," said Christian Marois of the Herzberg Institute of Astrophysics, Victoria, Canada.
In a recent press conference, the Leipzig team said the article would answer all their questions.
“It will explain everything,” team member Zanic Tys said, “and Guralkowsky ain’t no ‘guru’.”
-end
.
Astronomers Discover New Planet
GENEVA - “It was more like something you’d feel, but couldn’t prove,” said Guralkowsy Guralkowsky, premiere guru of astronomy at the Mt. Temple Observatory in Leipzig. "That's how close it is."
The Guralkowsky team discovered the new planet in a recent article in this month’s edition of Space magazine. The discovery is being hailed as ‘revolutionary’ that will forever change our knowledge of our solar system.
The planet, named, ‘Nevernight’, sits inside Mars, a mere stone's throw from Earth, is undectable to the human eye, and has seven times the mass of Jupiter, something that scientists will muddle over for years to come.
“We never noticed it before,” said the animated Guralkowsky. “Galileo, Copernicus, Kepler…all those guys…we never noticed it before. It’s not because it was obscured by the sun in some kind of cosmic hide a seek scenario,” he said, hunching down, looking around like a kid on an Easter egg hunt. “It’s because it’s never night there…all the time. Just think…the stars are never out,” he said, his eyes wide with bewilderment. “Wow!”
"The find substantiates Hubble data that has been used to look at over 200 stars with coronagraphy, looking for planets and disks. We plan to go back and look at all of those archived images and see if anything can be detected that has gone undetected until now," said Christian Marois of the Herzberg Institute of Astrophysics, Victoria, Canada.
In a recent press conference, the Leipzig team said the article would answer all their questions.
“It will explain everything,” team member Zanic Tys said, “and Guralkowsky ain’t no ‘guru’.”
-end
.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Who's Suspect?
31.03.09
I wasn't going to write anything today, but I couldn't help myself.
(This is the way the story truly ran:)
Pakistan: Suspected US missile kills 12 militants
By MUNIR AHMAD, Associated Press Writer Munir Ahmad, Associated Press Writer
16 mins ago
ISLAMABAD – A suspected U.S. drone fired two missiles Wednesday at an alleged hide-out connected to a Taliban leader who has threatened to attack Washington, killing 12 people and wounding several others, officials said.
The attack came a day after Pakistani Taliban leader Baitullah Mehsud claimed responsibility for a deadly attack on a police academy in the eastern city of Lahore, saying it was retaliation for U.S. missile strikes on militant strongholds along the Afghan border. Mehsud also vowed to launch an attack on Washington or even the White House in phone interviews with The Associated Press and local media.
(Okay. Notice anything? There was more to the story, but no more informative.
I wonder about the lead. Shouldn't it read, 'U.S. Missile Kills 12 Militant SUSPECTS'? Why is the missile the suspect in this story? Who else is flying drones around Pakistan? Is there any doubt in anybody's mind whose missile it was???)
Just wondered if anybody else thought the lead was suspect. And if the hideout was 'alleged', can we then deduce the occupants must have been suspect militants?
I don't know about you, but I would like to know more, as in, particulars. Who was at the controls? CIA, Air Force, Army, or Mikey at his Gameboy?* And where was he sitting? Pakistan, Afghanistan, Arabian Sea, or Langley, VA? How old is he? Who gave the 'go' order? Who managed the press release?
What are they not telling us?
-end
*Mikey's good! He's really good. I mean, he's really...reeeeeeally good.
.
I wasn't going to write anything today, but I couldn't help myself.
(This is the way the story truly ran:)
Pakistan: Suspected US missile kills 12 militants
By MUNIR AHMAD, Associated Press Writer Munir Ahmad, Associated Press Writer
16 mins ago
ISLAMABAD – A suspected U.S. drone fired two missiles Wednesday at an alleged hide-out connected to a Taliban leader who has threatened to attack Washington, killing 12 people and wounding several others, officials said.
The attack came a day after Pakistani Taliban leader Baitullah Mehsud claimed responsibility for a deadly attack on a police academy in the eastern city of Lahore, saying it was retaliation for U.S. missile strikes on militant strongholds along the Afghan border. Mehsud also vowed to launch an attack on Washington or even the White House in phone interviews with The Associated Press and local media.
(Okay. Notice anything? There was more to the story, but no more informative.
I wonder about the lead. Shouldn't it read, 'U.S. Missile Kills 12 Militant SUSPECTS'? Why is the missile the suspect in this story? Who else is flying drones around Pakistan? Is there any doubt in anybody's mind whose missile it was???)
Just wondered if anybody else thought the lead was suspect. And if the hideout was 'alleged', can we then deduce the occupants must have been suspect militants?
I don't know about you, but I would like to know more, as in, particulars. Who was at the controls? CIA, Air Force, Army, or Mikey at his Gameboy?* And where was he sitting? Pakistan, Afghanistan, Arabian Sea, or Langley, VA? How old is he? Who gave the 'go' order? Who managed the press release?
What are they not telling us?
-end
*Mikey's good! He's really good. I mean, he's really...reeeeeeally good.
.
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