Nuke 'em All, Let God Sort 'Em Out
I am about ready to resign from the human race and ask NASA to send me on the first Mars lander. Oh, that's right, they're not going to do that for about twenty years. That would make me . . . older than I want to be. Reason for this? Our friends and neighbors in the UN want to give Saddam more
time to disarm. Of course, while the UN dithers, Saddam is busy in his underground labs that he has under almost every hospital, school and clinic in the country, making more chemical and biological weapons. And he's also busy in the desert, setting mines as little Welcome Wagon presents for US troops. So, when we invade Iraq, more troops will be killed than needed to be (or would have been if we had invaded Iraq months ago and splattered Saddam across the landscape, like we should have done!).
I'm not sure if the previous sentence made any sense or not. I've been pissed at the UN for a while now, and it's not getting any better. Now Hans Blix says that the inspection teams have found unmanned drones in Saddam's arsenal, but Mr. Blix says that these unmanned drones (which Saddam is NOT supposed to have) do not constitute a "smoking gun". I wonder if it would constitute a smoking gun if we were to cram one of those drones up Mr. Blix's ass sideways. Oops, we can't do that . . . his head's in the way.
Sure sign that we're going to be fighting real soon; the hospital support group left North Carolina today headed for Kuwait. According to the news report, they can have a 400 bed field hospital set up and running within 48 hours. They obviously don't work for Blue Cross/Blue Shield; nobody moves that fast if they work for them. You've gotta admire the, for lack of a better term, gung-ho-ness of our men and women in the Middle East.
It's getting late, and my brain is letting me know that the synapses are failing fast. I'll continue my hobby later. Good night, all.