Tim Russert asks the hard questions:
MR. RUSSERT: Mr. Secretary, if, if demand is up but supply is down, why are the profits so high?Supply and demand graphing must not have been on the curriculum at journalism school. Or, er, high school macroeconomics.
MR. BODMAN: For that reason.
I read this story in the Washington Post, entitled "In the Hands of God." It's a good piece, in every sense of the word.
Well done. More like this, please.
MilBlogger poet laureate Russ Vaughn sends one of his older, but still quite appropriate, works.
Down Mexico WayI have to say I think this is one of Russ' best efforts.
Try crossing our southern border; try going the other way,
To enter Mexico illegally for an extended, unlawful stay.
Ignore immigration quotas, all their visas and their fees,
And quietly slip their border, anytime you damn well please.
Just sneak in past the policía, ignoring Mexican laws;
You’ve a desperate need to improve your lot; you have a righteous cause.
With Evil Bush in power now, destroying your liberal order,
You’ve a right to seek asylum, to trespass their northern border.
Once there, speak English only and demand it in their schools;
Forget assimilation; make Mexicanos change their rules.
What right do these Latinos have to make you learn their lingo?
Tell those churlish campesinos¹ you’ve the right to remain a gringo.
Move right on in, live your own way, ignore their cultural norms,
And demand the use of English on all their official forms.
Free healthcare is, of course, your right; let poor peones² pay,
For bilingual health providers throughout your border-bending stay.
Be sure to have a baby just as quickly as you can;
A citizen in the family helps legitimize your clan.
Then have another three or four, or maybe six or eight;
Don’t worry how you’ll feed them, just demand help from the state.
Paisanos³ paying taxes may resent your reckless breeding,
And protest loudly to their states about your gringo kids they’re feeding;
“But it’s just our way,” is your excuse, “Brought from our Yanquí land.”
How dare they question gringo ways they’ll never understand?
So defend your Anglo ethos; yield not your Yanquí essence;
And demand a driver’s license to legitimize your presence.
Just so you know what you’ve done wrong in case of policía stops,
Insist the Federales must teach English to all cops.
Make Mexicans accept your ways, make them your pliant fools;
Demand a Yanquí culture course be taught in all their schools.
So what you paid no taxes; when you’re an old gringo who will care?
File for your Seguridad Social, after all, you’re due your share.
If all this sounds preposterous, an irrational expectation,
Dems are demanding it for Illegals now in our multicultural nation.
Russ Vaughn
¹Rube, hick, unsophisticated person
²Laborer, worker
³Citizen
There's an article in today's Washington Post that shows us the way to the First Great Chinese Quagmire.
Militants in Nigeria's volatile oil-producing region detonated a car bomb late Saturday and issued a warning that investors and officials from China would be "treated as thieves" and targeted in future attacks.A few weeks ago, Kim du Toit had a post about China and Africa. He wrote:
The threat came as Chinese President Hu Jintao returned home from a week-long tour of Africa in which he reached a series of deals securing access to oil and other resources to meet the needs of China's booming economy.... A spokesman for the Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta said in an e-mail sent to news organizations that the car-bomb attack was "the final warning" before the militants turned their attention to oil workers, storage facilities, bridges, offices and other "soft oil industry targets."
Looks as though the Chinese are getting into Africa—several reports show them in Sudan, for instance—and now we’re getting noises that they’re going into Zimbabwe to “help out”, which triggered an article saying that the Zims should learn Chinese.He's right on both points: China, which is still dependent on foreign investment for it's own economics, doesn't have a lot of money to sink in any foreign investments of its own. It needs to get a substantial return, on average, for its investments to be worthwhile. (Their investment in American ports, for example, is probably wise.)
Some people may be alarmed by this trend. Not me.
What the Chinese are going to learn—and they don’t have a lot of money to throw at this—is the meaning of the phrase “Africa Wins Again”.
The rot starts with government, but it afflicts the entire society. There’s no point investing in a business because the government will not protect you against thieves. (So you might as well become a thief yourself.) There’s no point in paying your phone bill because no court can make you pay. (So there’s no point being a phone company.) There’s no point setting up an import business because the customs officers will be the ones to benefit. (So the customs office is underfunded and looks even harder for bribes.) There’s no point getting an education because jobs are not handed out on merit. (And in any case, you can’t borrow money for school fees because the bank can’t collect on the loan.)The so-called "Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta" aren't any more concerned about liberation than Mugabe was when he used the same terms. It's about piracy: they see some money and -- rather than getting a stake in the prosperity by helping out -- they take up arms and build bombs to try and extort some of the wealth. In return, the government will demand more Chinese money to protect Chinese workers. The money will never quite be enough, however, because the government in Africa benefits from the low-level violence too: the existence of the MEND means China has to help pay for the expanded local military.
It is not news that corruption and perverse incentives matter. But perhaps it is news that the problem of twisted rules and institutions explains not just a little bit of the gap between Cameroon and rich countries but almost all of the gap. Countries like Cameroon fall far below their potential even considering their poor infrastructure, low investment, and minimal education. Worse, the web of corruption foils every effort to improve the infrastructure, attract investment, and raise educational standards.
May Day used to be a day for celebrating the fullness of spring; the entrance into "the Cathedral of May," which in England in much of the Middle Ages was the most beautiful month of the year.
At some point it became a holiday for malcontents and Communists. Today we're apparently expecting some sort of pro-illegal immigrant protests in America, but that's not what I want to write about. I'd like to point to a more traditional form of May Day protests -- the labor protests in Indonesia.
Workers across Asia rallied Monday to press for better factory conditions and higher wages, often encountering a heavy police presence and, in some places, outright resistance.Measure of Effectiveness time: how does this compare with the latest anti-American protests? The anti-American movement in Indonesia had the advantage of a big-time vistor to rally their numbers: the US Secretary of State, Dr. Rice. She was there in person, one of the architects of US policy on Iraq and Afghanistan, one of the chief warmongers. How was she greeted?
Demonstrations were planned in major cities across Indonesia, with up to 50,000 people expected in the capital alone to protest government plans to revise a labor law. The new law would cut severance packages and introduce more flexible contracts that would chip away at worker security.
"Don't change the law," thousands of laborers chanted at Jakarta's main downtown roundabout, as others arrived in buses and trucks, waving green, yellow and red flags and banners expressing their demands.
Fearing violence, about 13,000 police were deployed on the streets, some carrying riot shields and manning water cannons, said police chief Maj. Gen. Firman Ganisaid.
On March 14, 2006 approximately 200 people staged a demonstration in front of U.S. Embassy Jakarta in protest of the visit of U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. The demonstration, organized by two hard-line Muslim organizations, Hizbut Tahrir (HTI) and Pembela Islam (FPI), featured a procession of speakers who denounced the United States and Secretary Rice as "anti-Muslim" and "terrorists."The protest lasted three hours, and ended without violence.
TC Override and FbL have posted the "Shirley Temple" photo featuring Uncle Jimbo. Jimbo's a good sport.
Stephen "Feddie" Dillard, founder of Southern Appeal, has a coalition blog with liberal blogger Eugene Oregon that is organized around trying to track the massacres in Darfur. The Coalition for Darfur is thus a doubly noble effort, both in that it is directed at the relief of human misery, and that it is one of the last remaining efforts in which liberal and conservative Americans are still working together towards a common good.
Feddie would like you to be aware of it, in case you are looking for news from there.
I went hiking today in the Shenandoah National Park. I took the wife and little boy, and we went out from Elkwallow down the Jeremy's Run trail, out towards Neighbor mountain. We did a small part of the Appalachian trail as well.
We'd originally planned a hike farther south, but when we got to the park, they'd posted signs noting that a hiker had gone missing. We redirected our hike in part to aid the search and rescue operation underway. The fellow was an older gentleman with Alzheimer's disease, who had (sensibly enough under the circumstances, I thought) gone off into the deep wilderness by himself for a while. "LOST" is an honorable way to go; a straw death at the hospital, unable to recognize or speak to your family? No, a wilderness hike seems just the thing.
In any event, we went about four miles, and didn't find any sign of the fellow. We did find fully six Search and Rescue Teams (SRTs) climbing around the mountains. The thing about SRTs is that they are pulled in from all over the area when there is a lost hiker. As a result, none of them had been on these trails before. Every single team but one stopped us to ask for directions.
I dutifully directed them to where they needed to be to link up with the rest of their operation, but I have to admit that I started to find it funny. These guys in emergency gear and impressive badges, several of them with search dogs, would stop and pull out maps, and beg for some idea where they might be.
The sixth team I directed, we were already most of the way back up to Elkwallow and they were just starting down. I gave them the directions faithfully, but I couldn't resist adding this: "And if you get lost, don't worry. There's a whole bunch of search and rescue teams down there."
The guy looked totally offended. "We don't -get- lost," he huffed, and he and his team pushed down the mountain.
It's unkind to laugh at people out doing good work. I tried not to, without much success.
The life of the American cowboy is alive and well -- as proven, in abundant irony, by a pair of this week's obituaries. We lost a couple of men this week, both of whom had chosen the Western way as their life.
The first one was only a youth, killed while practicing for a rodeo. Stuart Mazanec took his mortal wound when a bronco rolled on him, bruising his heart. He was seventeen -- a young man who loved coyote hunting and riding. Tex Ritter wrote his eulogy long before he was born, poor fellow, in Blood on the Saddle. Sudden death has always been a part of the life, a life which therefore only honors the young men brave enough to choose it.
The other was Joe Beeler, the last of the founders of the Cowboy Artists of America. His creation lives on, and is doing quite well for itself. Mister Beeler died at the age of seventy-four, and he died well: suddenly, in the saddle, while helping a neighbor at branding time.
As always at such times, with such men, we mourn and celebrate at once.
I see from this morning's Washington Post a piece of very good news in Iraq: the killing of al Qaeda's emir in Samarra.
U.S. troops tracked Hamadi al-Takhi al-Nissani, al-Qaeda's "emir" in Samarra, to a safe house north of the city Friday morning, the U.S. military said in a statement. As the soldiers approached the house, Nissani fled and was killed. Two other armed insurgents in the house were also killed, according to the statement.Either way is fine, really.
Police in Samarra who spoke on condition of anonymity gave a slightly different account, saying that the house was east of the city and that the three men were running to a getaway car when fire from an American helicopter killed them.
On Thursday night, U.S. troops also arrested Abdul Qadir Makhool, another al-Qaeda leader in Samarra, and released a police officer who had been kidnapped by the group, Maj. Jamal Samarraie, an officer at the provincial Joint Command Center, said in an interview.Good job, Post. Now, here's the bad news:
The U.S. military referred to capturing an armed insurgent in a statement on Friday but did not give the man's name or say precisely when he had been captured.
I haven't said much about the Fran O'Brien's story, because quite a few of the major MilBloggers seem to know a lot more about it than I do. I would like to point out, however, that this is the day on which a resolution is to be expected one way or the other.
Our friend FbL has done a lot of work on the issue, and I expect that Mr. and Mrs. Greyhawk will be tracking developments with their usual devotion. (Andi, who certainly deserves some credit here, says she's traveling today.)
Keep an eye on those sites, and if there's anything we can do to help at the last minute, I expect it'll be posted there.
One of the bloggers I finally got to meet at I MBC was Bill Roggio. I've dealt with Bill enough online to consider him a friend, so it was good to have the chance to shake his hand.
I think we've all been impressed with the quality of his writing, and his embed in Iraq was of great use in getting a better picture of how things are going there. Now, Bill's wanting to go off to Afghanistan, either with the Marines or the Canadians.
One of the things about not being a "journalist" is that you don't get paid. You want to go off for a few months to do this kind of embedded blogging, you pony up the cash. For the trip, and for your family while you're away (and for the life insurance policy you'll want, just in case).
We've been talking about ways to improve our communications efforts. Bill is one of those ways. If you'd like to help him get to Afghanistan, and back to Iraq again later this year, he wouldn't mind your help.
Also at Kim's place, an interesting thought experiment. It's a repeat of an old game he played, which was popular. The rules are as follows:
You have the opportunity to go back in time, arriving on the east coast of North America circa 1650, and your goal is to cross the North American continent alone, taking as much time as you need. When/if you reach the opposite coastline, you’ll be transported back to the present day.Now, it's always dangerous for a married man to put down on paper answers to questions that could be translated, "What two guns and two knives do I think are all a man might need?" If that were all you needed for such an undertaking, you might find yourself invited to dispossess yourself of the rest of your collection -- in some moment of financial strain, perhaps.
Your equipment for this journey will be as follows (taken back in the time capsule with you):
-- enough gold to buy provisions for the first five days’ travel;
-- a small backpack containing some clothing and toiletries;
-- a winter coat, raincoat and two pairs of boots;
-- waterproof sleeping bag;
-- an axe;
-- a box of 1,000 “strike anywhere” waterproof matches;
-- a topological map, binoculars and a compass;
-- a very small toolbox, including a firearm cleaning kit and a few spares for your firearms;
-- and a U.S. Army First Aid kit.
Weapons:
-- ONE long gun (and 800 rounds, but no scope)
-- ONE handgun (and 1,000 rounds)
-- TWO knives
plus of course holsters/scabbards for them all.
Once you arrive at the starting-point, which can be on either coast, you’ll be given a horse, a mule and a dog—and apart from that, you’re on your own. Remember: you’ll be traveling through deep woods, open prairie, desert and mountains. You may encounter hostile Indian tribes and dangerous animals en route, which should be considered when you answer the following questions (and only these):
1. What long gun would you take back in time with you?
2. What handgun?
3. Which knives?
There are only a couple of rules.
1. Multi-caliber long guns are okay (drillings, combos, etc), but you’ll still only be allowed 800 rounds in total for that firearm. The mix is up to you.
2. Email your response to kim -at- kimdutoit dot com; subject: Crossing America II.
3. Try to keep your responses short.
We don't do sex on Grim's Hall much, but since I made an exception for the last item, I suppose we might as well get it out of our systems today. Cassidy links to this poll at the New York Post on the topic.
Some points:
"Only thirty percent of men prefer makeup on their mates; 50 percent would rather they ditch the lipstick and go unadorned."
Grim's comment: And rightly so.
"What is sexier on a woman.. great looks or a great personality?"
The results: "67 percent of men who own a gun place a premium on personality, compared to 61 percent of gun-free men."
Grim's comment: With a possible exception for certain foreign countries, there is no such thing as a gun-free man. Reference the question comparing lumberjacks to "metrosexuals" for a restatement of this concept.
Kim du Toit wanted us to all link to this guy's webpage, as part of a bet the fellow is running with his girlfriend. I won't get into it; if you want to know, go see for yourself.
What's sad is that Grim's Hall has had only like 140,000 hits ever, all put together, in more than three years. This guy's got almost seven hundred thousand already. Obviously, it isn't philosophy, history, and warfighting theory that gets people to link to you. :)
I hope his girlfriend was serious about that contract, because I'm guessing she's going to have to pay up.
Sgt. Gehlen from CENTCOM PA would like you to take a moment to view this transcript of Zarqawi's latest statement. It's part of a CENTCOM effort to simply help the terrorists get their message out.
Well might we want to do so. I believe it is written that "you shall know a tree by its fruit." Zarqawi asks, "Where are the lions of al-Anbar?" But he should know: many of them followed him to Fallujah, where they boasted they would be the end of the United States Marine Corps. Zarqawi decided not to stay with them when the Marines came, but left them alone to fight America's best. There they are still, and will remain, until the world is made new.
Today's Day By Day cartoon made me suddenly remember why the name "Neil Young" means something to me. Neil Young, in his heyday, represented everything that was wrong with music -- men shouldn't sing in high-pitched, whiny voices, for example; songs should have a melody that is pleasant to hear.
I've always detested most of the songs to come out of the protest movements of the 1960s and 1970s. Partly it's that there was so little good music, and yet all my life I've been listening to greying protesters talk about these musicians like they were some sort of living gods. Well, here's the truth as I see it: during the same time, Johnny Cash was producing music that was not only good, it was insightful. Most of these "legends" couldn't produce music that was either.
The musical duel between Young and Lynnard Skynnard is one of the few enlightening things to come out of the 1960s/1970s protest songs. Not only is the contrast instructive as to the difference in cultures between the whiny protester and the man who loves his home, but one of the two songs is actually pleasant to hear. Pity more of these "legendary" rock musicians couldn't manage that!
I went out to the gun range the other day, with a full selection of firearms: rifle, shotgun, and revolver. It's a small but nice range, and when I got there I saw that the shotgun section was occupied by a group of young men with military haircuts. They turned out to be Army Reservists.
I went to the rifle range and zeroed my rifle, and then went over to the pistol range. By this time, the young soldiers had finished their shotgunning, and were also at the pistol range. They were shooting a stainless 1911 variant, and the youngest (and tallest) of the three was missing everything. At fifteen feet. From a rest.
"Dude, stop hitting the wood," one laughed, meaning the planks between which the targets were stapled. "No, really, stop it."
The young soldier with the .45 finally set it down, and told one of his companions to finish up the magazine. He was rattled.
I popped off a few rounds from my Ruger Single Six, which is a .22 revolver while the other soldier finished the last two rounds that were left. Then, as they were reloading, I called the young soldier over.
"Try mine," I said. "Sometimes the .45 can be a handful if you're starting out. A .22 barely has any recoil, and so it lets you get your skills down. Once they're polished, you can easily swap up to the .45 pistol."
He looked a little unsure, just as I remember being unsure when I was given similar advice at about the same age. I wanted to be able to handle the hottest rounds out of the heaviest calibers, like I'd been born to it! It seemed like an insult to start off on a .22, which was like a toy gun next to a combat pistol.
Still, here I was shooting it, and he could see from my target that I knew something about shooting. Must not be anything to be ashamed of, then. You could see it all play out on his face.
He loaded the revolver and went through a cylinder. It wasn't a good group, but they were all in the eight ring or better. He was obviously impressed with how well he'd done, once the recoil wasn't a factor.
"See?" I said. "You're shooting pretty well, now. Just practice with a .22 until you get your skills down, and then you'll have no trouble with the .45."
He looked at me and said, "Thank you, sir." That's all he said, but you could see the new confidence in his eyes. He'd put down that .45 feeling like a failure, but he put down the revolver feeling like a man.
I can't express how proud I was to help him, even in that small a way.
