The Inconvenient Truths of History, Part 2

Following Michael Steele’s remarks about Afghanistan, Republicans (and most Democrats) have coalesced to thump anyone questioning the prosecution of this war. Steele may have been artless - and certainly incomplete - in his criticism of our military commitment in Central Asia, but he does seem to assert that the present war is a different war than the one we launched in 2001. It's worth exploring whether that might be the case, and along the way there are other things we need to question that seem lately to have been accepted without challenge.

There seem to be four principal assumptions underlying this broad support for the policy of the United States in regard to Afghanistan.

1. The war is “winnable” if the United States provides adequate support (money, troops, political and moral will).

Here I get to define “winnable.” (No one else has.) I assume we’ve won when (a) the Taliban is permanently banished or housebroken (participates benignly in some future successful central government); and (b) Afghanistan has a central government that has enough control over its own territory to preclude that territory from serving as a base for international terrorism.

Neither of those objectives seems attainable. For the first, an armed insurgency based in part on religious belief has to be completely destroyed or reject its own core beliefs, something I can't remember having been accomplished anywhere, even with overwhelming military force. (The jury is still out on the Tamil Tigers.)

For the second, Afghanistan has to be converted from a loose confederation of tribal areas into a modern state with a strong central government. That’s not a description that has ever applied to Afghanistan, with only the possible short-lived exception of the Marxist government that the Soviet Union tried to rescue in a decade-long war that many believe contributed to the final break-up of the Soviet Empire. To my knowledge, we’ve engaged in no other mission in our history – even Vietnam – as formidable as “winning” the “war in Afghanistan.”

2. “The War in Afghanistan” is one war, continuously fought for a consistent set of objectives.

It simply is not. It’s at least two wars; I can account for four.

The first war commenced in October 2001, and ended some time in 2002. It was fought to disrupt Al-Queda by destroying their training bases and supporting infrastructure, the latter necessarily including the incumbent Taliban government.

That war was a “qualified” success; it denied al-Queda its Afghanistan base, and ended the Taliban’s loose control of Afghanistan in favor of reversion to the country’s traditional and historical loose confederation of tribal areas – “warlords” to some. The “qualifier” on that success? Both the Taliban and al-Queda set up shop in the tribal areas of nearby Pakistan.

The second war commenced immediately on the end of the second. It consisted of a kind of “benign neglect” in which an international force applied just enough force in the region to keep the Karzai government in place and the Taliban at bay (or at least in Pakistan).

The third war (some might call it Obama’s war) began more recently, when Afghanistan was defined as “the right war,” one in which “victory” would depend on “nation building,” an “on-again, off-again” and “in-favor, out-of-favor” “end state” for United States policy toward “failed states” in the twenty-first century. This war began when we stopped “drifting along,” and became committed (after a fashion) to ‘winning.” The question is whether we should have begun this third war, or accepted the ambiguous outcome of the second.

There may be a fourth war, and it may already have begun. This “Fourth War” would be fought in the Tribal Areas of Pakistan with the objective of further pursuing and weakening – if not actually destroying al-Queda and the Taliban leadership. Obama’s increase in missile strikes from remote-piloted aircraft in Pakistan certainly looks like a significant shift of focus to that theater. The pursuit-of-al-Queda rationale that no longer applies to Afghanistan would certainly apply here, with the added advantage that there could be no pretense of “nation-building” in Pakistan. This war would be fought in a lawless frontier, with no objective or pretense to leave it as anything but.

3. Leaving a “failed state” state in Afghanistan will result in a uniquely useful terrorist sanctuary, a “breeding ground” for terror, or somehow erode our ability to protest our interests elsewhere in the world.

The first of those is a “been there, done that,” sort of argument; they’ve been there, and moved on, we’ve been there and if we do the same they won’t then return; so could we, and with advantages – knowledge of the ground, local allies – we have few other places. No, our enemies will stay in the places they have gone – Pakistan, Yemen, Somalia, Algeria (the hapless AQLIM).

That list of countries strikes directly at the heart of the whole “failed state” theorem – the one that says we can’t “leave one.” Given there are thirty-seven (37) countries that made the Foreign Policy 2010 list of “failed states,” and Afghanistan is one of them, my question is “so what?” There are 36 others that can’t police their territory, that can’t provide security or other basic services for their citizens. Any one of them is a candidate for a sanctuary or a breeding ground. In fact many of them are. What makes Afghanistan unique? Nothing I can see.

Does abandoning Afghanistan compromise our “moral authority,” in foreign and military affairs, the degree to which others see our nation as “reliable?” Any reader able to make sense of any of this will recognize this argument as one of the underpinnings of our engagement in South Vietnam, a bedrock principle of “containment,” supported by the “domino” theory. I won’t take on here whether those assumptions were valid – or whether they were warranted in the circumstances of the day. (That's quite different than an analysis fifty years after the fact.) After the unfortunate boat people and the butchers in Cambodia, no communist horde has swept through South Asia. On the contrary, frozen swai and shirts “Made in Vietnam” are ubiquitous. Ho Chi Minh’s eternal rest must be more than a little uncomfortable; those of us who served in Vietnam could never doubt the population’s entrepreneurial spirit, with ice, (rice) French bread, and Ba Moui Ba (Biere 33) Export on country roadsides and every city street corner.

Afghanistan left to its own devices will, in two or three decades, end up in the same place it would with our “guidance” (to say nothing of our treasure).

4. Afghanistan is a state of strategic importance.

Perhaps if one is intent on holding a South Asia empire. As far as I know we are not, having watched Darius, Alexander, the Mongols, Russia, and Britain acquire – then lose – one, each in turn. (Four of those five were “local powers.” I have no idea what Britain’s excuse was…something about the sun never setting?)

In fact Afghanistan lacks the most rudimentary infrastructure, which, along with a formidable topography, makes it a lousy “base” for anything, excepting perhaps an attack on Iran. Given the difficulty of getting men and material into Afghanistan, getting them out in the direction of Iran is of limited utility. And if that’s our objective, we best get on with it, before a nuclear weapon makes the whole thing moot.

In regard to Iraq, at least George Bush’s strategic vision (practical or not - that's another discussion) of a secular democratic state in the midst of despotic theocracies in the oil-rich (and sea-lane-straddling) Middle East has a potential value that might be worth the expenditure of war. In modern times, no such vision is possible in regard to Afghanistan.

Is there another rationale for pursuing war in Afghanistan? Is there some other support for one of the above principals? I’m willing for a reader to make the case.

The Inconvenient Truths of History

The other day a television reporter, commenting on the President’s relief of General Stanley McChrystal, said, “Obama’s already done the unprecedented…relieved a commanding general in wartime…” referring to his relief of General David McKiernan a year ago.

Of course that’s stupid. Just off the top of my head, there were McDowell, McClellan, MacArthur, and McKiernan before McChrystal. But so what? Being stupid is routine enough not to require comment.

The real question: “Is such stupidity important?”

In the past two decades, education in the United States has been hell-bent on being “relevant,” as if immediate use is the sole measure of knowledge. Tell Plato. Or Einstein, for that matter. Neither one spent a great deal of time being relevant. As things turned out, what they thought about was important, however.

If you think something is “unprecedented,” you might be easily led to the conclusion it’s wrong. Years ago, in this very blog, I wrote disparagingly about George Bush’s un-nuanced pronouncement that he “trusted the generals.” He couldn’t know whether his general would turn out to be Washington or Burnside.

Lincoln would have been in a fine kettle of fish if he hadn’t finally decided to stop trusting “Little Mac” and fire him. McClellan was –and remained – very popular, winning the Democratic nomination and running for president against Lincoln in 1864. McClellan was also a very weak battle commander; so much for popular opinion.

Taking our theme further, our current president made “fighting the right war” a centerpiece of his successful election campaign. What made Afghanistan the right war? “Getting Bin Laden? Since when does revenge – ok, law enforcement, then – justify a nation at war? Killing or capturing Bin Laden will not likely materially reduce the potential of radical Islamists around the globe to do us harm. Disruption of Al Kaida's base of operations at the time they planned and launched the 9/11 attacks? We accomplished that in just weeks after our October 7, 2001 attack. The first U.S. soldier killed by hostile fire was on January 4, 2002. Perhaps that would have been a good time to declare victory and leave; Al Kaida had already done so, decamping for Pakistan. Instead, we stayed in Afghanistan to "nation build," incidentally - and inexplicably - giving Al Kaida the same kind of sanctuary we once gave the NVA and Viet Cong.

Alexander the Great, having subdued the Persian Empire, the world’s great power of that day, took his army into Afghanistan in 330 BC. Four years of bitter battles later, he prevailed, but his army was so exhausted and depleted it never really recovered, and Alexander was soon dead. His dream of Empire had truly died in the mountains and valleys of Afghanistan.

Britain fought three Afghan Wars, tactical successes, but strategically no benefit to the Raj and the larger Empire. In the last gasp of its own Empire, the Soviet Union lost 15,000 killed and 35,000 wounded in Afghanistan. From the Sistan Basin to the Hindu Kush this has been graveyard of three Empires. This is really the right war?

Fighting irregulars who have some popular support with a regular army while allowing the enemy a geographic sanctuary is folly. That was true in the British colonies in North America at the end of the eighteenth century. In the Peninsular War of 1807-1812. In Vietnam. It’s unlikely to be different in Afghanistan.

Am I a "pacifist," or "anti-war" in this one? Not really. I'd support a large-scale (Colin Powell's dictum on overwhelming force) attack into Pakistan's tribal areas where the threat might still exist, rip those bastards up - and let Afghanistan go back to hearding goats, growing poppies, beating women, whatever else they do.

History: a compendium of truly inconvenient truths.

Note: A few days after I wrote the above, RNC Chairman Michael Steele was excoriated for saying much the same thing. Is he crazy, as they - even Fox - assert? Am I?

Memorial Day Primer

One of the networks had a "Memorial Day Special" today, a remembrance of the victims of 9/11. Though that may be admirable, it has absolutely nothing to do with Memorial Day. So, for CBS, for those grocery stores touting a "10% military discount" (grammar aside), and others who are confused about such things, here's a little primer.

Memorial Day is observed on the last Monday of May to commemorate U.S. men and women who died while in military service, or as a result of injury in battle. Founded as Decoration Day in May 1868 to honor Union soldiers of the American Civil War, after World War I it became a commemoration of all United States war dead.

Veteran’s Day, originally known as Armistice Day, and observed on November 11, commemorates the armistice signed between the Allies of World War I and Germany at Compiègne, France, for the cessation of hostilities on the Western Front, at eleven o'clock on 11 November of 1918. Veterans Day now honors all veterans of the United States who have served honorably in war or peace.

Armed Forces Day, created in 1949 and designated an official holiday by President Kennedy in 1962, honors Americans serving in the five U.S. military branches – the Army, Navy, Marines, Air Force, and Coast Guard, is celebrated on the third Saturday in May.

A hero is one who, in the face of danger and adversity or from a position of weakness, displays courage and the will for self sacrifice – that is, heroism – for some greater good.

Certainly it's right that individuals and families use this day to remember those they've lost of any history or status. Those conducting official events, however, should do so on the day set aside for that remembrance or honor.

I just thought you should know.

24 Hours: Tet 1968

Delta, 1st Battalion, 12th Cavalry dug in late that afternoon on a bushy hill in the rolling piedmont of Quang Tri province, a few miles south of the DMZ. Khe Sahn – the reason we’d flown north from the Bong Son plain on the central coast earlier in the month – was already enveloped in a tightening ring not far to the west.

Bong Son had fixed itself in our memories as a kind of mythical hell. Our last time there, before sitting out Christmas in an eerily quiet An Lao valley, was Tam Quan, the battle with the North Vietnamese Army’s 22nd Regiment, where we lost Cortes-Rosa, Southerland, Tierno, Flores, O'Neil, Hicks, and Lebron-Domenech. Where Captain Orsini was wounded, won the DSC, was replaced by Richard Kent. Where Allan Lynch won the Medal of Honor. Pending that award, we’d left Allan behind at Camp Radcliff – An Khe. The paperwork wouldn’t actually be filed until the next fall, when witness statements were found in a previously unopened Conex container flown north with us. Not much had happened since the move north. The 1st Brigade secured and built– was still building, actually - LZ Sharon, its base just outside Quang Tri city. We’d patrolled an area of operations but not found much. There was the occasional small sharp contact, quickly broken off, already only hazily recalled.

We laagered in the afternoon (we didn’t use that word – the mech guys and tankers did – we ”resupplied”). Perhaps we got a hot meal in marmite cans, beer and soda iced down in garbage cans, or just the usual cases of charlie rats, ammo, socks, and such.

It started as a quiet night, and Vietnam, when it was quiet, was deathly quiet – a terribly wrong metaphor, since death in Vietnam didn’t come in the quiet at all, but in the staccatos of M-16’s and AK-47’s, each distinctive, in the zzzzip of ball rounds cutting the air; the double detonations of an RPG, the first its launch, the second deadly; the pungent odor of cordite.

I’d gotten the platoon’s sector of the company perimeter, checked the lay-in of the M60’s, coordinated platoon boundaries right and left, suggested targets – defensive and H&I – to the artillery forward observer.

Our platoon sergeant – it might have been Johnson then – attended to resupply and to the platoon CP. Everyone took turns digging – something we did without complaint – and attending to other things like putting up a hooch, two ponchos, though sometimes in the dry season and in the relative open of the piedmont, we’d dispense with such luxury accommodations. Squad leaders would have fields of fire cleared, OP’s assigned, be working on resupply.

Soon after locating and securing that night’s company position, we’d have gotten a single Shithook (CH47 Chinook) or multiple Slicks (UH-1D Iroquois “Huey”) with our night defensive pack – mortars, extra claymores, ammunition, our rucksacks – whenever possible we were light in the field – rifle, ammunition, grenades, radios – the basics, the rest “hooked out.”

Sometimes – after dark, after all work was done and the first watch was set – we’d talk quietly, about “the world,” and the “round-eyed girls” there, carefully cupping our cigarettes.

That eve of the Tet holiday was one of those nights of quiet talk, and at some time, someone had a radio, and AFVN was reporting “the battle for Vietnam.” Tet 1968 was underway. I have no idea why a radio would be on after dark in the bush, but there it was, and we were listening to the battle for Vietnam under a starry sky on that bushy hill in the piedmont.

We stayed up late that night, listening, talking, thinking about it all; a kind of heavily armed slumber party. We’d usually be down with the sunset, with a second, or third, watch – radio, perimeter, OP – coming up. This time we listened and wondered where we’d be going on the next day. Something in each of us wanted to get into it, this battle for Vietnam, and equally, something in each of us didn’t, wanted to just be able to continue our walkabout in the piedmont, no one gets hurt. We knew better, we’d go somewhere into this battle, and no one would ask us what we thought, or what we wanted, we’d just go where the Slicks took us.

Sometime overnight, Captain Kent – a self-effacing West Pointer who’d told us his fame at the academy derived pretty much exclusively from his membership in its Jewish Choir (true, it’s in his yearbook entry) – got our mission, when we’d be picked up, where we were going, some idea of why, that last part only a guess, to patrol for some NVA unit believed to be in the area, going toward, or coming from one of those soon-to-be-famous places like Hue. Not just ‘like’ Hue, but actually Hue, just down Highway 1 from that bushy hill in the piedmont.

Kent called together his platoon leaders, gave us an order of lift for the air assault, our destination landing zone, order of march out of the LZ, and that ‘objective.’ We took it all back to our platoons, setting our own order of lift, squad, platoon CP, squad, etc., sector responsibility on landing – usually first straight ahead from each of our slicks, then if it’s a cold LZ, rallying to a clock direction, probably 6 o’clock that day, since we’d be last in the company’s order of march. Wherever we were going, we weren’t the most important move on that day, for we sat on that hill for most of the morning, then finally it was ‘slicks inbound,’ smoke was out and the first platoon got ready to scramble aboard.

We flew low and fast, east toward the coast, to a dry paddy landing zone south of Quang Tri. Part of the I Corps coastal plain north of the Hai Van pass on Highway 1 this side of Danang, the terrain was flat, divided into then-dry rice paddies, palm-filled villages dotting the landscape, connected by footpaths adjoining sandy ridges, dunes they might be called, but not the loose sand closer the coast. We were third in the order of march; first and second platoon, and the company command party were in the LZ ahead of us, and moved off it in the lead, to the south. We followed.

Whatever the third platoon’s own order of march for its own squads that day, I was in the lead squad. The point team was ahead, the lead squad leader near me, a gun behind. From there – or sometimes from just behind that first squad, I would more likely be able to tell what was happening in contact. That day, because of what followed, I think the lead squad’s M60 was behind me.

We continued south, platoons in column, moving more slowly than usual, starting and stopping. We traveled through hamlets, and past a small well in an open area within one of them. Ahead of us some had quickly stopped for water; I believe some further back in the third platoon also stopped.

We’d just passed that well, and not yet cleared the built-up area of the hamlet when “all hell broke loose,” down the path. This was an explosion of sound, a huge crashing clash of scores of weapons all together that drowns any of those distinctive sounds in other, more sporadic, engagements.

Two platoons were pinned down by fire in an ambush ahead of us, where the path passed a low rise on the left of the direction of march. I may have decided to move the platoon to the left on my own, or it may have come as an order; there was no way to go ahead, that would just run into the next platoon, and from the sound, into a kill zone. Follow me. As we started go left and ahead, keeping the firing to our right, I had the handset in my grip, tugging the platoon radio – and Brian, to whose back it was attached – along. Follow me. I’d said it, and how trite was that, the Infantry School motto? But what else is there to say? It’s too damn noisy to say anything else, and there’s no time to discuss anything. You don’t get to call a time out.

We moved a hundred yards, maybe a bit further, on an angle to the left, until we encountered a ditch across our front. The firing was to our right, and some of it was coming up that ditch. But across, that was the way we had to go, I knew it, that there we’d be behind that ambushing enemy. I crossed. I thought for a moment I was alone that no one had followed. I was wrong, one soldier, a SP4 separated from the rest of his platoon, the second, I think, just ahead of us when the firing broke out. He’d followed me, looked at me, asked, “Where are we going?” “There,” I said, “along that ridge.” We were now behind it, and clearly there was the sound of AK’s firing, most away from us, some not. No conscious thought of that, though. After a few ineffective rifle rounds into the dirt of that rise, a muttered, “let’s go,” and we rushed forward, now with grenades – I usually carried four – preparing one on the run. Reaching the nearest spider hole, I pushed a grenade into it, rolled away, and without waiting for its detonation, went for the next, then continued down the line to my left. My companion had caught up, and worked in the other direction, doing the same.

Finally, as firing went quiet – not just where we were, but elsewhere on the field, those weren’t the only positions of the NVA enemy – we exhausted our grenades, and almost immediately, the rest of the third platoon, they had followed, came up to where we were, and secured the ridge. The sound of firing was now replaced by the thump-thump-thump of the dust off (medivac) slick. Captain Kent had been wounded early in the contact, and PFC Billy Lee Wright, a medic, was killed in action.

Our old friend, Captain Donald Orsini, returned to Delta that night to replace Kent, who had first joined us when Orsini was wounded at Tam Quan.

That was our Tet, what I remember of it, anyway. Other units of the 1st Cavalry Division were in the battle at Hue. We returned to a combination of a lot of search and not much destroy, along with some firebase security though February and March. Then in April, the routine would change once again with Operation Pegasus – the relief of Khe Sanh.

Ambiguity is the Soul of Deterence

In today's news:

The Obama administration is adopting a new policy limiting the circumstances under which the U.S. would use nuclear weapons, keeping with the president's pledge to give the nuclear arsenal a less prominent role in U.S. defense strategy.

The document is expected to say the U.S. is moving toward a policy in which the "sole purpose" of nuclear weapons is to deter or respond to nuclear attack, according to the officials who spoke on condition of anonymity because the policy review has not been released.

That wording would rule out the use of such weapons to respond to an attack by conventional, biological or chemical weapons. Previous U.S. policy was more ambiguous.

In an interview with the New York Times on Monday, Obama said his administration was explicitly committing not to use nuclear weapons against non-nuclear states that are in compliance with the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, even if they attacked the United States with biological or chemical weapons.

Fine. But why in hell would you announce it? An effective deterent policy is intentionally ambiguous.

Football's Part of the Glue

I remember the last two Vikings NFC Championship games, both losses. Regardless, they’re good memories. The first of them, my son Ashley and I were at the All American Sports Bar at the Mall of America – gone now.

That was January 17, 1999, at the end of that amazing 1998 season – an end that came too soon. Denny Green had Randall Cunningham take a knee. Gary Anderson missed the winning field goal from 38 yards – a foot wide left – with 2:07 to play, his first miss of the season, after a perfect 44 straight. At the end it was a 30-27 loss in overtime.

It was a great time, few hours in which sports, entertainment, friends, and family, all come together, sharing the ecstasy of winning and the agony of defeat one play at a time, suspending time and thoughts of everything outside of the game before your eyes.

Two years later, January 14, 2001, Kelly Wechsler, Jim Schwartz and I were at the latter’s for another NFC Championship game, the Vikings at the Giants. Ashley was away at Drake University.

This one was over early, and the sports only lasted for a while before we turned to other topics, taking refuge in friendship – including our Packer-fan host – in the early absence of entertainment that could hold our attention.

Giants 41, Vikings 0, launching a dark era in Vikings history that’s only recently ended – ironically with the arrival of the old man from Kiln, Mississippi – the Packers quarterback we loved to hate – but recognized for his skills – all those years.

Jeannie and I watched the Vikings and her Broncos; we were at the Metrodome for a Broncos' win. She laughed that I pouted for hours after. We enjoyed the Rodents for two seasons in the dome and traveled to Nashville to watch them beat Alabama in a bowl game. Shared experiences.

We’re scattered now; Jeannie is gone. Ashley and I talked last night, and I talked to Kelly. We’ll likely text during today’s game. Hopefully, the messages will be ones of satisfaction rather than of frustration.

Yes, I remember the “Hail Mary” of 1975, and the Superbowls lost before that. But those spirits are long since exorcized. It’s those two recently past NFC Championship game that are the emotional background for this game. It will either be 1 for 3 or 0 for 3 at the end of the day.

It's not so much football or the Vikings, or any other team. It's the shared experience, win or lose. A bit of the glue in the friendships and relationships in our lives.

Tyrants

Tyrants usually come to power in times of great stress in society, usually economic. Tyrants usually are democratically (or constitutionally) empowered. In classical Greece, in Rome, in Germany in the middle of the last century, in Haiti and Cuba in the Caribbean, and more recently in Venezuela, that has been their pattern.

Once in power they are not necessarily socialists, or fascists, or communists, or royalists - they could be and have been any of those - but they are nearly always populists, seizing on the fears of the masses.

What is universal to tyrants, however, is the message: (1) always attack the predicessor government as the reason for inherited problems, (2) find a "bogey man," real or imagined, some evil that against which the population can be rallyed - bankers will do, all the better if they're Jews; in more recent times, insurance companies, and (3) establish yourself as the good knight fighting that evil.

Elsewhere the United States itself is the bogey man. In Iran, the "great satan," in Venezuela (as in Cuba), the oppressor, readying an invasion that might come at any moment. They should not be our greatest concern, however.

The United States is not immune from tyrants.

Momentum

So much for being hot. Momentum (an invention, near as I can tell, of Don Meredith, who would be better known for his rendition of Willie Nelson’s Turn out the Lights, the Party’s Over) took it in the boxer shorts in the Divisional round of the NFL playoffs.

The Saints were suspect, having lost their last three in a row, and having been challenged even before that. The Arizona Cardinals, who had the momentum, having beaten Green Bay (which had the momentum, going 7-1 over the second half) the week before. Saints 45, Cardinals 14. Rest 1, Momentum 0.

Dallas was the self (and sports pundit) proclaimed hottest team, some said “the best” entering the playoffs. They’d won their last four, including one over the undefeated (at the time) Saints. The Vikings had no chance it seemed. They were as “cold,” having dropped three of their last four, as the Cowboys were hot. All that was nonsense, of course. Vikings 34, Cowboys 3. Rest 2, Momentum 0.

Indianapolis pulled starters – including the only one that counts, quarterback Payton Manning – giving up its shot at a perfect season, then went on to lose to the hapless Bills. Baltimore was another hot team, having won five of its last six games. That was before visiting the Colts, of course. Colts 20, Ravens 3. Rest 3, Momentum 0.

Some might say that Ol’ Mo finally got a win when the upstart Jets, riding a three-game winning streak and six of their last seven, slipped by the Chargers. But San Diego was anointed the “hottest of the hot” for its eleven game win streak. The Jets didn’t rest, of course, playing through the wild card round. We’ll have to call this a tie. Momentum won for the Jets and lost for the Chargers. Offsetting; no play.

What I take from this is that sports talk hosts and columnists take refuge in “momentum” when they have no idea what else they might talk or write about. Hopefully, going into the two Conference Championship games that’s one discussion we can leave behind.

That might require some thoughtful analysis, though.

Language that makes me just a little crazy.

I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I decided to write a blog entry. Seriously – catharsis – that’s the purpose of this blogosphere, isn’t it? And, no the blogosphere is not the world around a former Illinois governor.

This is going to be about words. Dumb words. I-wasn’t-paying-attention-in-the-fifth-grade words.What is so infuriating is not the language itself. I also make some of these mistakes (ok, one of them). It’s who makes them. Not Norwegians on the North Dakota prairie. Not Cajuns in Louisiana. No, pros – professional “talkers” like sports announcers, news anchors, and…well, you’ll see what I mean.

Mr. “what.” Joe Buck puts “what” in every sentence. “He’s better than what he’s showing.” The Vikings defensive line is bigger than what the Cowboy’s line is.” I don’t have to explain that, do I? He gets paid millions to butcher the language. Great work if you can get it, isn’t it?

Sometimes dumb words are institutionalized. That is, by repetition made more or less the official language of an organization or an entire industry. When you next fly, pay attention to departure and arrival information given by your flight attendant. “We will be departing out of…” and “We will be arriving into…” Into. A preposition indicating that somebody or something moves inside something, either physically or figuratively. No definition even remotely means 'arriving.' The right word in this case is either ‘at,’ as in 'arriving at the gate,' or ‘in,’ as in 'arriving in St. Louis.' Arriving into the gate brings to mind the scene in the movie Airport in which the plane crashes into the gate, through the glass wall of the terminal.

Since we’re on ‘at,’ it is one of the most used and abused prepositions, or I should say overused. It is simply unnecessary in many of its uses. Consider this sentence, often heard: “I wondered where he was at.” Sound familiar? Of course it is. But it’s wrong. The ‘at’ is of no use, no more that other ‘space fillers’ like ‘ah,’ and ‘you know.’ “I wondered were he was.” Period.

The phrase, in a comment on a Wall Street Journal story was this: “What is any of this based off of?” Good grief. Saying that is bad enough; what kind of a dolt do you have to be to type it. Similar (but more egregious) than the ungrammatical “out of,” the departure companion to "arrivals into."

Here’s a sports version of one I hear routinely: “He was waiting on his receivers to get open.” On? You know where you ‘wait on?’ In a restaurant, and then only if you’re an employee. Otherwise, one waits for.Well, I think that’s out of my system – for tonight, anyway. In our next installment, we’ll look at grammatical redundancies. I know you’re looking forward to that.

Awful Game on Wild Card Weekend

Unfortunately the principal features of this weekend were three really bad, blowout NFL wild card games. The losers – Philadelphia, Cincinnati, New England – can’t claim to have “gone down valiantly.” They played sloppy, disinterested games, looking like they didn’t belong in the playoffs, and knew it. In a word, they sucked.

The only entertaining game (I didn’t say “good,” did I?) was Arizona and the Cheesers – oh, sorry, - Packers. Kurt Warner had more touchdown passes (5) than incompletions (4). Chris (Beanie) Wells rushed for 91 yards on 14 carries, 6 and a half a pop. Neither team played any defense worthy of the name, but the Cheesers were truly gawd-awful.

In a game record setting for the futility of its defenses, the Cardinals sent the Pack Packing. That ended my hopes the Vikings would get that privilege, but this will have to do. As for the Cards, I can well imagine how many points that defense might give up on the road to New Orleans, having surrendered 45 to the visiting Pack – a team without anything near the Saints’ firepower.

I’ll be cheering on the Cards next week against the Saints. Cardinals at Vikings seems infinitely better than Vikings at Saints. First, there are those ‘Boys, though…

My Wild Card 'Picks' (Sort of)

It’s the NFL playoffs. Football fans (and fans of football pools) are making their picks in work places all over the country.After much study, I’ve concluded that my picks would be (on the record, usually are) a ‘crap-shoot.’

While I follow the NFL (meaning the Vikings, Jeannie’s Broncos, and because I’m now in Arizona, and can’t avoid it, the Cardinals) I’ve realized that most of my ‘analysis’ is little more than a rationalization of what I want to happen, rather than a realistic appraisal of what will happen.What follows, then, are the wild-card winners I want to see – mostly because they’ll give me the games I want to see later.

Jets at Bengals (Bengals by 2 ½) – If I were picking this game to (perish the thought) “lay a quid on the line” I’d have to take the favored Bengals, even after Week 17’s Jets’ beat-down. Jets’ quarterback Sanchez doesn’t appear ready to win a playoff game, and the Bengals will be that much-heard-of “different team” with the return of three starters who sat out last week. The Jets are the leagues No. 1 defense, so is it “Win on defense?” Not this year; Cincinnati is the likely winner. But I’m not making that pick. The game I want to see in the Divisional Round is Jets-Chargers, teams with some history, and a story line that won’t include class clown Chad Ochocinco. I’ll be pulling for the Jets.

Eagles at Cowboys (Cowboys by 4) – Before this game was played the Dallas Cowboys were a mediocre team that started December by dropping games against the ordinary Giants and the pretty good Chargers. There was some redemption in a win over a New Orleans team in a season-ending swoon; shutting out the really awful Redskins was a ‘gimme.’ Suddenly the pundits (most notably CBS Sportsline house idiot Pete Prisco) make the ‘Boys the team to beat. On the body of work, though, it’s hard to ignore the Eagles. I’ve no doubt they’re better coached, and would expect them to beat the spread, if not the Cowboys outright. I’m not going there, though, since the next game I want to see is the Cowboys at the Vikings. I’m one who remembers the pass that put “Hail Mary,” into our football lexicon, Roger Staubach to Drew Pearson against the Vikings in the playoffs December 28, 1975. It’s been a bit “on hold” in recent years, but there was a day when the Vikings-Cowboys was a bitter rivalry between the best in the NFL. For this one day (ok, two weeks in a row, since the ‘Boy’s win last week put the Vikings in the 2-seed) I’m a Cowboy’s fan.

Ravens at Patriots (Patriots by 3 ½) – The Patriots are 8-0 at home, but the Patriots without Wes Welker aren’t the Patriots. The Ravens will be able to shut down the mid-field passing game (Welker’s territory) while doubling Randy Moss to take away the deep threat, leaving the Patriots reliant on mid-pack (league 12th) running attack. That won’t likely be enough, because the Raven’s Ray Rice will thrive in the running game and on screens in the New England cold. I’m not going there, though, because I want a Patriot’s win. Why? For Boston-native and Pats fan Dave, my son-in-law at West Point, for certain, but it also likely puts the Patriots on the road at the Chargers in a Divisional game. Consecutive (likely) match-ups of Patriots and Colts for the resurgent Chargers is an appealing prospect.

Packers at Cardinals (Cardinals by 1) – You’d think I might be pulling for the “new home-town” Cardinals? If the Cardinals win, we don’t get that Packer’s – Vikings matchup for the NFC Championship (after the Vikings beat the Cowboys). Those two games are truly a pair for the ages. Could I make a case for a Cardinal win? It’s harder than any of those above, for certain. Coach Whisenhunt played key starters and got two hurt while having his team otherwise ‘lay down’ to the Packers in a meaningless week 17 game. The locals seem proud of a “better” running game that’s 32nd in attempts, 28th in yardage, and tied for 3rd in fumbles. Among those hurting (and perhaps out) is Antwan Bolden, the ‘second’ receiver after all-world Larry Fitzgerald (who dropped to 7th in catches, but 17th in yard this season). Here’s one I’d have to call for the Packers even if I had something at risk. (I don’t.)

The teams I’ll be pulling for (whatever good that will do) this weekend, are:New York Jets; Dallas Cowboys, New England Patriots; Green Bay Packers

Reading

There's a thread in a racing forum I regularly monitor about favorite books. That's subject-specific, racing, including classics like Mark Donohue's "Unfair Advantage," and the very recent "The Art of Racing in the Rain," which my friend Murphy reviewed last fall.

I've always been a reader. I stacked up my last ten books and listed them here, in no particular order.

1. Angela's Ashes - Frank McCourt
2. Army of Amateurs, General Benjamin F. Butler and the Army of the James, 1863-1865 - Edward G. Longacre
3. Sony Alpha DSLR, Guide to Digital SLR Photography - David Busch
4. The Glory and the Dream, A Narrative History of America, 1932-1972 - William Manchester
5. The World is Flat, a Brief History of the 21st Century - Thomas L. Friedman
6. Sea of Glory, America's Voyage of Discovery - Nathaniel Philbrick
7. The Art of Racing in the Rain - Garth Stein
8. Boys of '67, From Vietnam to Iraq - Charles Jones
9. Andrew Carnegie - David Nasaw
10. Sea of Thunder, Four Commanders and the Last Great Naval Champaign, 1941-1945 - Evan Thomas

In the backlog to be read:

1. The Devil in the White City - Erik Larson
2. The Judas Field - Howard Bahr
3. False Economy, A Surprising Economic History of the World - Alan Beattie
4. Toly's Ghost - BS Levy
5. 2666 - Roberto Bolano
6. Alexander Hamilton - Ron Chernow

For tonight, however, Alabama vs. Texas in Pasadena for the BCS Championship.

A Disquieting Trend

I haven't been a very good blogger of late. I think it's because I've gotten into the mindset that every post has to be some literary work of art, or some tightly reasoned editorial. When we started this, it was a nearly daily afair, short pieces on subjects that struck our fancy. I'm going to try to get back to that.

In December, I saw a local (to Phoenix) news item that as of the new year, the Mayo Clinic in Arizona would stop treating (not just stop accepting new) Medicare patients. That put 3,000 senior citizens "on the street" for their medical care. The reason? Institutional reimbursement rates (not the doctor rate, but the hospital and clinic facility rate) were too low to be economically viable for the clinic.

You might say, "So what, Mayo is just probably too high cost, not representative," but you'd be wrong. The Mayo Clinic operates on the same model as the Cleveland Clinic - that's the one the President of the United States visited a while back to "prove" that costs can be kept under control while delivering the best of care.

This week we ran across another news item. Medicare rates for some elements of cardiac care (echocardiograms, for instance) were being cut back by 40%. That, the government said, was because a survey had indicated that the cost of such things had fallen by that much over the past decade. Cardiologists cried foul, and some are suing. That probably won't do any good, to what's going to happen? "We'll just have to stop accepting Medicare patients, or accept less," said one cardiologist. Another possibility raised was to close independent clinics and take such treatment into hospitals.

Come December I'll be on Medicare. With a heart valve prosthesis, I need periodic "echos." Will they be available? That appears less and less certain. Will I be able to find a clinic, a doctor? I'm no longer sure.

All that's without any of the similar cuts and changes included in the "reforms" pending in Congress. Tell me I don't have reason to be concerned.