The Language of Honor
A More Disturbing Matter

1979 Anyone?

I have made no secret of the fact I am epically underwhelmed by what the current Occupant in Chief calls "leadership" and what his ignorant buffoons running Foggy Bottom and the Puzzle Palace call "diplomacy."

So, after having scanned the news for information this morning and seeing how things are developing in Egypt, Syria, Tunisia, Libya and across the disputed lands of the Middle East, we are now falling faster and faster down the wormhole to 1979, but worse.

Some of us are old enough to remember that in 1979, when there was a weak willed apex pussy in the White House, along with an enabler Secretary of State that threw a staunch (although not perfect) ally in Iran to the wolves and then allowed a band of heathen two-bit revolutionaries to hold Americans hostage for 444 days; all while looking for the place where he left his non-existent spine and his morals while dealing with something Cronkite now called the "Misery Index."  And then, after much hand wringing and teeth gnashing about how our enemy might feel if we kicked their ass, he finally decided to have Charlie Beckwith and the boys from the new SOF-D get down to the business of introducing these two-bit revolutionaries to a controlled pair to the vital t-zone during a sniper initiated dynamic entry, but first, Charlie had to endure yet another briefing in order to continue to listen to chapter and verse the exact levels of micromanagement and hand wringing necessary to keep the faint little hearts of those in the Puzzle Palace from giving out.  Part of this was a conversation that Charlie was forced to have with the Deputy Secretary of State, Warren Christopher about the part of the plan that involved shooting the Iranian guards (that went a little something like this);

BECKWITH: "and that Gentlemen, is how the operation will go."

CHRISTOPHER:   Colonel; can't you just shoot them in the leg or shoulder?

BECKWITH:  stunned silence... (thinking to himself simultaneously "what a tribute to our country that this oxygen thief is allowed to even ask me such a question and "Wow.  You are a HUGE Pussy.")

God Bless the brave men of Desert One who did their best based on all the BS that was loaded on them by the second most incompetent administration in our history.  But that my friends, is why, given the events that are transpiring on the Arab Street; it is starting to look and feel to me exactly like a much worse version of 1979; and not in a corduroy bell bottoms, denim hip huggers, Farrah Fawcett poster and t-top Bandit Trans Am's kind of way. We are driving down the road of appeasement in speaking with savages that understand only one thing; power.  My fear is that we will soon pull off this road and park somewhere in parking lot of full retreat.

The Iranians released those hostages after 444 days because they knew that newly elected President Reagan would grind their bones to make his bread if they did not, as opposed to Carter the apex pussy. This act, both in Libya and Egypt, as Grim has said, needs to be answered, and it needs to be done in spectacular fashion.  I am a realist and I understand that any President who would rather send out Twitter apologies to savages that spend every waking moment standing by to be offended (and then retracting the apologies) is not the kind of leader that would be using all of our resources toward getting these same two-bit faux revolutionaries to assume room temperature for invading American territory and burning down our flag and killing our ambassador.

This is now reason 327,893 why this miserable excuse for a President, all of his ass-hat, know nothing, no life experience in the real world cronies and advisors need to be sent packing in stellar fashion.  This administration's experience is a constant amateur hour that is combined with what seems to be a slow, simmering hatred of American values and the constant apologizing for the fact that America doesn't suck and are the best nation on Earth has reached it zenith.

This is what happens when you put thinkers, and not "do"-ers in charge of running the show.

For the love of all that is holy, if we are going to be a Superpower, then we need to be one.  Please Candidate Romney; if you need someone to work somewhere at a high level in your State Department to help turn this way of thinking around; I am free to help out on this front.  I swear, with Ambassador Bolton and I together, we can turn American Diplomacy into verb, and not a noun.