The American way of war is a marvelously
ingenious thing. And thoroughly modern too. No more of that "don't shoot
until you see the whites of their eyes" jazz; your modern "warfighter"
(they aren't called "soldiers" anymore, you know) prefers to view his
targets through, say, a computer screen safely ensconced back in the
Homeland or thousands of feet in the sky, or else through the unearthly
greenish glow of night-vision scopes. And open combat? Forget it. The
new American way is the sneak attack on civilian homes in the dead of
night. You creep up, you break in, you cap a few ragheads, then you run
away. What glory! What magnificent valor!
The Washington Post reports on yet another
glorious page in the annals of the exceptional nation "intended by God to be a light set on a hill
to serve as a beacon of hope and Christian charity to a lost and dying
world." It's the usual story. Secret "warfighters" suddenly attack a
civilian compound in the middle of the night. This, not surprisingly,
provokes a few shots from some of the inhabitants, who have no idea who
is attacking their home. The superior firepower of the beacons of hope
and Christian charity quickly overcome the piddling arms of the demonic
heathens, however, and in a trice, there are dead gook sorry, raghead
bodies all around. Including children you've got to have
children in your body count these days, if you want to be a thoroughly
modern Christian beacon warfighter. Then you and your brave band of
secret warriors run away and prepare for the next bold raid.
Naturally, the local losers come out and boo-hoo-hoo over their dead
relatives, as if no one had ever seen their son shot to death in front
of their eyes before. They trot out all their evidence that the victims
had nothing to do with the "insurgents" (which is what your modern
warfighter calls anyone who objects to the presence of armed foreigners
prowling all over their land), they keen and wail and do all the other
animalistic stuff that primitives do when one of the pack snuffs it.
"Oh, I lost my son, oh my son, my precious son," etc., etc. as if
there's not a dozen more when he came from; you know how those people
breed.
But anyway, here's the beauty part: if the local dorky darkies start
to complain, you just say, "Hey man, we came under fire! Those monkeys
shot at us when we came sneaking up on their house in the middle of the
night with our guns drawn. That proves they were bad guys. We had to
take them out."
But hey, that's just how we roll nowadays. That's the American way
of war. Creep, sneak, kill, run, lie repeat. Sure, it only makes
things worse, creates more enemies, keeps the wars going. But isn't that
the point? Check it out, baby: they're piling an extra $33.5 billion of prime war pork on
top of the mountain of Terror War funding already laid out for this
year! And you need a whole lot of blood to wash down that meat and a
whole lot of new enemies to make sure the feast never ends.