No fondue for Junior

Well, Americans, I must say, for all our red, white, and blue pride, we don't seem to have much moral courage in this country.  At least, when compared to the Egyptians, who are still taking to the streets, shutting down commerce, refusing to accept the status quo, demanding change.  Or even, perhaps, compared to the Americans of yesteryear, my parents' generation, who marched in the streets to demand an end to an illegal war and to racial discrimination and segregation in Dixie.

And now, here are the Swiss, showing us up again, by threatening to bring charges against the man who most typifies American ignorance and anti-intellectualism, Junior Bush.

According to Reuters:

Bush was to be the keynote speaker at Keren Hayesod's annual dinner on February 12 in Geneva. But pressure has been building on the Swiss government to arrest him and open a criminal investigation if he enters the Alpine country.


Criminal complaints against Bush alleging torture have been lodged in Geneva, court officials say, and several human rights groups signaled that they were poised to take further legal action this week.

Color me grateful. If it weren't for human rights activists in Switzerland (which has her own problems vis-a-vis human rights), Junior Bush might be happily jetting around Europe, clowning like an idiot, telling dirty jokes, and remaining blithely ignorant of the hatred directed at him by so much of the world.

I'm grateful to Swiss activists for having the courage and the fortitude to take these steps.  And my biggest single complaint against President Obama, Nancy Pelosi, and Harry Reid is that they lacked the courage to bring justice to an obvious war criminal and his cartel when they had the chance in 2008. 

It is a bitter lesson of life that evil will often go unpunished.  At least from the outward human perspective.  As scripture states, in Matthew 5:45:

...he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.

But I do believe that Junior, in his half-aware, blithe ignorance, still experiences pangs of guilt and unhappiness.  I do believe that, in his most private moments, he regrets that he has failed so miserably, not just as a president or a leader, but as a man, as a human being.

And, Switzerland, thanks for reminding him.  Junior, you are not forgiven.

Fate and destiny

fate n.  The supposed force, principle, or power that predetermines events; the inevitable events predestined by this force.
destiny n. The future destined for a person or thing.

Fate and destiny: two concepts that are closely related, but that differ subtly (at least, by the definitions listed above).  I find the differences between them fascinating.

Fate is an entity, an irresistible force, a vehicle.  Fate is not luck.  There is nothing random about fate.  Fate simply is.  "As well ask men what they think of stone," as Judge Holden said of war, in Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian.  Fate is the conveyance that brings you to your destiny. 

Destiny, on the other hand, is the state at which a person or thing must inevitably arrive.  Destiny is akin to a destination.  (Indeed, both words are derived from the Latin destinare, to determine.)  Destiny is the ultimate condition that the laws of the Universe impose upon you.

Perhaps a few examples will help illustrate the distinction.

How about a happy example?  Let's try this:  my destiny is to accrue a massive fortune.  My fate then, the vehicle by which I arrive at this destiny, might be to win the Megabucks Lottery for $200 million.

Or, go dark, if you prefer:  my destiny is to die on the side of a rural highway.  In that case, my fate might be to hit a patch of black ice while driving to Klamath Falls.

But the best example is probably the one that is true for each of us:

• My destiny is to be an infinitesimally small, but absolutely essential part of the greater consciousness of the Universal Mind.
  
  
• My fate is to experience life as a human being on the planet Earth.

(The Devil's Dictionary provides an alternate, amusing definition.

Destiny:  A tyrant’s authority for crime and fool’s excuse for failure.

What a nut, that Ambrose Bierce, eh?)

Dreamworld by Vicodin

Yesterday, I parted ways with my mandibular second molar (#18 in the cold parlance of dentistry).  No hard feelings.  We made a good run of it.  But now, I'm all dosed up on Vicodin and appear as though I'm carrying around a cheek full of marbles.  Let me tell ya, Vicodin makes for some strange dreams...

Riding around in an open-topped Karmann Ghia with Tiger Woods.  He was driving, but the car must have been manufactured for sale in the United Kingdom, because he was seated in the right-hand bucket.  We sped around the avenues of Molina Heights in Klamath Falls, Oregon, and eventually headed east on Highway 140, looking for Shield Crest Golf Course.  I knew Tiger had missed the turn, but I didn't want to presume to tell him anything at all about golf, so we just kept right on going.  Lakeview was out ahead somewhere.

Then Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito and I were seated at a picnic table beside some beech trees out by Rocky Point.  Justice Alito was in town to help with the Oregon Institute of Technology Hustlin' Owls football camp, but we were taking a break from the drills and conditioning exercises.  "I almost took up acting instead of law," said the Good Justice.  "For a while, they considered me for the part of Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs."  I found it hard to believe.  "But, I thought you were vegetarian..." I protested.

That's just a taste, y'all.  There's a lot that is best left unremembered.  Besides, at some point in the zany reverie, Maty gave me an insistent shove and told me to roll onto my side so I'd quit snoring.

Esperanzas poste-cumpleañoses

Ya este año de dos mil once está un duodécimo pasado.

Hace muchos años desde que yo dejé de hacer resoluciones.  Eses son solamente recetas para desilusión.  Pero, las esperanzas.  Esas yo tengo.

Quisiera crear una vida que le gusta a mi esposa querida. Si sea posible.  Quisiera ser digno de su amor. Otra vez, si sea posible.  

Espero que yo pueda confrontar los ensayos que vienen con gracia y valor.

Espero ser como un ciego a las tentaciones diabólicos que atormentan los ojos.  Espero ser como un sordo a las voces que dicen, "Tú te conoces.  ¿Quién mejor?  ¡Lo ha sido escrito!"

Cuando un hombre ve una bendición en su vida, hace bien que anunciarla.  Y ahora he tenido cuarenta y nueve años de esta vida magnífica.

(Perdóneme por favor para mi español malo.)

End of the road for Hosni Mubarak?

Mr. Mubarak, it appears that the time has come...

All eyes are on Egypt.

The people have taken to the streets, demanding governmental reform and the abdication of power by President Hosni Mubarak, who has been at the top of the Egyptian power structure for nigh on 30 years.

It is hard to imagine how Mubarak can survive the upheaval, politically.  The demonstrators who are paralyzing the streets of Cairo, Alexandria, and Suez have only one clear demand:  Mubarak must go.

I remember well when I first learned Mubarak's name.  It was back in 1981, in the period following the historic Camp David Accords, brokered by President Carter, between Egypt and Israel.  Egypt's president at the time, Anwar el-Sadat, was a hero to many Americans for being the first leader of an Arab nation to make peace with Israel.  But Sadat's popularity in the United States meant nothing to extremists in his own country. To them, he was a quisling who betrayed the Palestinians.

Radical members of the Egyptian military conducted a bold assassination of Sadat during a military parade, firing into the presidential viewing stands.  In the confusion that followed, Hosni Mubarak emerged as a leader.  He was wounded in the gun play around the assassination, but managed to escape.  He was later sighted giving orders to military personnel, taking charge of the government.

Again, that was in 1981.  But watching the news this weekend, I heard an astonishing fact.  The median age of the population of Egypt, all ~80 million of them, is 24 years.  They are a nation of young people, most of whom have never known any leader other than Hosni Mubarak.  They have no recollection, nor perhaps appreciation of the contrast between today's Egypt and the bitterly anti-Western Egypt that sought to destroy Israel and played footsie with the Soviet Union in the Cold War chess match.

I'm not defending Mubarak.  This is an Egyptian matter.  Egyptians need to sort it out for themselves. Mubarak's record on human rights is appalling and his government is thoroughly corrupt.

I believe the United States is best served by playing it exactly as President Obama is doing:  expressing support for the people, warning against violence, offering assistance when possible.  Remember, Egypt is the recipient of $1.15 billion per year in foreign aid, so Egyptians have a very big interest in maintaining good relations with the United States.

It seems clear that Mubarak's time is up.  All that is left to him is to determine whether his story ends with relative calm or in an eruption of violence and bloodshed.

The endowment of Julija Laenen

Up on top of Tabor, near the very summit, there is a bench that faces eastward.  It is made of sturdy, wooden slats, solid and sound, well-coated in forest green paint.   According to the engraved metal plaque embedded in the concrete foundation, it is an endowment from Julija M. Laenen.   It is an excellent vantage from which to gaze at Old Man Hood, on those days when he deigns to show himself.  (Today, he did not.)

Julija passed in the year 1995, which is significant for me because that was the year that my first marriage ended.  I was living in west Portland in those days.  I did not discover Mt. Tabor City Park until several years later.  It was another several before I discovered Julija's gift.

Julija was roughly my age when she passed.  (I assume Julija was female.  I believe the name is Slovenian.)  But she left a fine gift for the people of Portland.  A fine gift, indeed.

I mean, take a look at that view...

ASL Red Barricades: Today the Volga, tomorrow the Vistula (Pt. VII)

Note to readers: This post won't make a lick of sense to anyone who isn't familiar with the Advanced Squad Leader game system.

Dave Hauth and I are engaged in a playing of RBCGI:  Into the Factory.  I'm the Reds.  He's the Jerries.

We're each maintaining a blog correspondence as the game progresses.  We've a Gentleman's Agreement that neither of us will read his opponent's blog until given express permission to do so. 

Readers are encouraged to comment!  Speak your piece! Just be sure not to inadvertently reveal any information about Dave's plan to me or vice-versa. 

You can read earlier episodes of my account:

• Part I
• Part II
• Part III 
• Part IV 
• Part V
• Part VI 

You can read Dave's blog here.

Aftermath of CG Day 6

CG Day 6 saw the most savage fighting yet of the campaign game.  The Germans suffered 69 CVP, while the Russians suffered a whopping 110 CVP!   The fighting took place in three sectors.

Day 7 perimeter

In the north, where I had set up for a diversionary attack toward the O10 factory I received a nasty surprise.  I pushed my two T34 M41 tanks way out to the west on Turn 1, determined to crush a German machine-gun nest in hex P5.  But on Turn 2, to my surprise, Dave entered a Sturm company on the northern board edge!  My tanks were caught in a bad place without infantry support.  They succumbed fairly quickly to the marauding shock troops.  From there, Dave pushed southward toward the Chemist's Shop.  My two platoons of infantry and the 82mm Mortar did what they could to stop him, but I was out-manned and out-gunned.  At the end of the game (which lasted 7 turns), Dave had control of the Chemist's Shop and had annihilated all my troops in the area.

In the factories, Dave set up his shock troops in big stacks, which he then used to pulverize my conscripts as he pushed eastward.  He made good progress, seizing the R23 factory and all but the few southernmost hexes of the P21 factory.  Once again, his eastward progress was stopped only by some desperate intensive fire by my 76* howitzers, one of which went to its reward.

The big counterattack I had planned for the south succeeded nicely.  I was not only able to completely win back the P33 factory, but I annihilated the Germans guarding that factory and put a big hurt on Dave's reinforcing rifle company that came hustling in from the western board edge.  My T34 M43s were unstoppable down there.

Dave sees this...

The stake is in the ground

There is no retreating at this point.  Just stand here and slug it out.  My retained forces are these:

• 9-0 x 2, 9-1 x 3, 8-1, 8-0 x 3, 7-0, 6+1
• 82mm Mtr.
• 76* INF 
• T34 M43 x 3
• T60 M42 x 2 (dug-in hexes T31 and V31)
• 628 x 9
• 527 x 3.5
• 458
• 447 x 2
• 426 x 4
• 228 x 2
• .50-cal HMG, HMG, MMG x 2, LMG, Lt. Mtr., Atr x 3, German Lt. Mtr., German Atr x 2
• OBA Module 80mm Mtr (scarce ammo, pre-reg hexes Q33, U38)

Looking over this list, it is obvious that my casualties from Day 6 were huge.  At the end of that day, the Germans had twice as many squads as the Russians.  I don't know that I've ever seen that be the case this far into a campaign game.

Which brings up another point:  the way this game is playing, with neither side gaining any clear advantage, it is conceivable that we could play out the campaign all the way to the end.  I've never seen that happen before, either.  Dave and I are in uncharted territory here, as regards Red Barricades.  It should be interesting to see how it plays out.

Day 7 setup

Once again, I'm awarded 18CPP for the coming day.  My purchases are these:

• I2 Guards SMG Coy (reserve)
  628 x 9
  DC
  8-1, 9-0
  
  
• I3 Rifle Coy (reserve)
  447 x 12
  HMG, MMG, LMG, Atr., Lt. Mtr.
  9-1, 9-0
  
  
• I4 SMG Coy
  527 x 9
  9-0
  
  
• A2 T70 Pltn (dug-in)
  T70 x 3
  8-1 AL
  I'm pretty sure Dave will be buying armor for this campaign day.  He needs it.  But I can't afford to buy a proper AT Battery, so I'm settling for a platoon of dug-in T70s with their 45L guns that could prove troublesome to incoming German armor.  More about these later.
  
  
• M1 80 Fortification points
  AT Ditch
  Trench
  HIP:  Squad, HS, SMC x 3, AFV x 6
  ? x 14

I'm more or less compelled to buy 3 infantry companies after suffering such devastating casualties.

Day 7 setup, north

On Day 6, Dave took the Chemist's Shop, as told.  So the noose is closing in the north.
I've set up my reserve rifle company in the Commissar's House and vicinity.  They get the duty of doing what they can to guard the riverbank.

I've got a hidden .50-cal HMG on the second level of the Commissar's House.  Dave will certainly know that there is something hidden somewhere on the second level, but he still has to deal with the fact of it.

I've got a hidden spotter in GG21, sighting for the surviving 82mm Mortar. 

Unfortunately, the weather for Day 7 is clear, and that means one thing:  Dave will be buying Stukas.  So, in anticipation of that unhappy development, I'm setting up my T34s in the factories, where they will stay and support the infantry.  I'm spending 30 Fortification points to hide them and the dugin T70s, as well.  I'll keep the T34s hidden for as long as possible, hoping to avoid the Stukas and maybe just catch Dave by surprise here and there.

Day 7 setup, south

In the south, I'm starting to fortify the P33 factory.  This may be where the Red Army is forced into its final stand.  An AT Ditch in O34 makes it less easy for German tanks to enter the factory.  And two of my hidden T70s are poised on the flanks to open up as the Panzers approach from the west.

My reserve Guards SMG company awaits the Germans within the factory, and I've still got my 80mm Mortar OBA module to assist in the defense.

My reinforcing SMG company will enter wherever the need seems most dire.

My Red Army heroes and the mighty Sixth Army are approaching a culmination.  Now is not the time to lose our nerve.

To be continued...