Why I would have trouble working for the CIA...

I'm not anti CIA. I think they've done many questionable things over the years, but fundamentally I believe very strongly in American ideals and that in order to protect those ideas you absolutely must have an incredible intelligence network. And I think that the Agency, despite all the things they do horribly wrong, does a lot of things well. It is, after all, the kind of organization that you never hear the whole story and you're much less likely to hear what they do right than what they do wrong. And I mean that both practically as well as morally. After all, they are in the business of saving American (and allied) lives. They can hardly be blamed for Iraq - if the administration had listened to our intelligence we would have known that there were no WMD's to be found. Good intelligence is about the of preventing war...or at least making it as small scale as humanly possible. But zeal for the protection of American lives can lead and has led the Agency to do some monumentally stupid things. I fear that the War on Terrorism will lead us to make the same damn mistakes as we did in the War Against Communism. Namely, that we end up supporting whomever happens to have the resources to help up root out terrorists: fascist dictators bent on genocide to root out terrorists bent on killing us. Part of the problem is that the CIA is run by political appointees who take their cues from the administration. The pressure gets pushed down to the grunt-level zealots, who when there is any moral ambiguity rely on the old standards - ends justify the means. Only the means often make the ends impossible in the long run.

Anyway, sorry for the rant: here's a story from the LA Times that prompted it.

I'm in a writing mood. Look for more posts throughout the day. And by that I mostly mean, read them all at once cause you don't check the blog obsessively like I do.

-Peace, seriously. Warnie.

Triumphant Return

Warnie, Boos,


Describing Hawai'i is sort of fruitless. I can do it, but it would take forever. Suffice it to say that Magnum P.I. is exactly correct. Tom Selleck is everywhere. And there are tons of Lamborghini's. And other impossible words to spell.

Actually, that's a lot of the difficulty. Dave Barry supposedly tells the story that when the Tahitians were coming to Hawaii, they brought everything they'd need, including the language. Unfortunately, most of the consonants washed away in a storm.

Here's the Hawaiian name for the Picasso Triggerfish. Humuhumunukunukuapua'a. That's the unofficial state fish. My favorite though was the Parrotfish, so called by us white-eyes because it has a very strong beak and big eyes (it uses the beak to snap coral). The Hawaiians call it "uhu" which means "loose bowels". The fish is followed by a cloud.

We actually spent most of our time hiking around in the forests and mountains, or at least more time than at the beach (we did a fair piece of snorkeling as well). That suited me. The Big Island, where we were first, had really cool rock beaches, with tide pools and things like that (two sea turtles swam right up to me and Pockets, swimming through our legs) and the atmosphere was much more like Nag's Head. Maui was very touristy, although with nice beaches.

Anyway, I'm trying to work on some poems related to the idea, but more about traveling in general. They're little tribute poems to the various folks that went with me, and I'm still working them out. But I thought I'd pass on the first one here.

Engineer (for my father-in-law)

The diarist at his journal

is a crayfish in a dark pond

combing the algae for food

with his facile, plated feet.

His mind is an elegant factory

where the day is refined to sentences

and a date—streamlined, sturdy,

and sleek as she needs to be.

It's short, but that's sort of the point. Anyway, I'm hoping to fill out the rest of my understandings with little things like that.

Hmm, it's early. Brain not functioning. Need coffee.

But I'm back, and I'll be posting.

--Jack

Mom and Dad

Hi all,
Next year, not this june, but next june is Mom and Dad's 30th wedding anniversary. I think we should start planning something now, especially since, as money goes, we all need to probably start saving up. Brian suggested whatever it is, we could give it to them at christmas so that they would have time to arrange it into their schedules. So, start listing ideas. I think a fun vacation or something would be well deserved. I think a surprise party would be fun but a little too hard to arrange/invite people they know. Start listing ideas boys...let me know what you think.

Indian Sunset

Listening to old school Elton John this morning. "Indian Sunset" is such a good song. It pulls at me every time I hear it.

As I awoke this evening with the smell of wood smoke clinging
Like a gentle cobweb hanging upon a painted tepee
Oh I went to see my chieftain with my warlance and my woman
For he told us that the yellow moon would very soon be leaving
This I cant believe I said, I cant believe our warlords dead
Oh he would not leave the chosen ones to the buzzards and the soldiers guns

Oh great father of the iroquois ever since I was young
Ive read the writing of the smoke and breast fed on the sound of drums
Ive learned to hurl the tomahawk and ride a painted pony wild
To run the gauntlet of the sioux, to make a chieftains daughter mine

And now you ask that I should watch
The red mans race be slowly crushed
What kind of words are these to hear
From yellow dog whom white man fears

I take only what is mine lord, my pony, my squaw, and my child
I cant stay to see you die along with my tribes pride
I go to search for the yellow moon and the fathers of our sons
Where the red sun sinks in the hills of gold and the healing waters run

Trampling down the prairie rose leaving hoof tracks in the sand
Those who wish to follow me I welcome with my hands
I heard from passing renegades geronimo was dead
Hed been laying down his weapons when they filled him full of lead

Now there seems no reason why I should carry on
In this land that once was my land I cant find a home
Its lonely and its quiet and the horse soldiers are coming
And I think its time I strung my bow and ceased my senseless running
For soon Ill find the yellow moon along with my loved ones
Where the buffalos graze in clover fields without the sound of guns

And the red sun sinks at last into the hills of gold
And peace to this young warrior comes with a bullet hole

its hot...boo fredericksburg, thats all i can say

Pearls Before Swine

Saw this in the Washington Post Express this morning and thought it was pretty good. Pearls Before Swine can be found here.

An A+