Anyone with the requisite authority
Anyone with the requisite authority can commence a war, but he can’t end the war he started. All war is like a crap game once you have cast your dice; you don’t know what is going ro happen. Most wars start off being fought like the last war, but they soon take on a life of their own. They use different weapons, and swiftly develop different tactics.
A good example of this is the French and British at the beginning of WW II. Both of them imagined that the war would be fought like a continuation of WW I. This didn’t happen during the years separating the two wars Germany developed a set of tactics designed to be swift. The allies on the other hand relied on their concept of a static war. Look what happened; the French were outflanked possessing one of the finest fortifications in the world the Maginot Line. The British who anchored the line against the Belgium border eventually got run out of Europe having to be evacuated from Dunkirk.
A lot of war is strictly based on posturing by the combatants. There is nothing better in a poker game then a good bluff, and outmaneuvering your opponent. Two good examples of this were the Invasion of Inchon during the Korean War, and the Hail Mary Run by Norman Schwarzkopf during the Gulf War.
Today we are faced with yet another war that we had apparently won in May 2003, but because of outside influences, mainly Al Qaeda we have seen this war dragged out for the next four years with no end in sight. George Bush is not to blame for what happened after it was thought we had won. If there is any blame it is because of these outsiders.
It does not help anyone except our enemies to have our country so divided over the war. On one side we have a faction that wants to continue with the war, on the other side we have a different faction that wants to end the war. It is a good thing that we are able to afford to have this controversy, but there is also the issue of giving aid and comfort to the enemy.
What is not apparent to the American people is that this is not a usual war where both sides square off, and have at it until one side or the other wins. Instead since the other side is completely outgunned by us they have had to resort to guerilla tactics. This is the most difficult kind of war there is to fight. The other thing that the American people fail to recognize that this is a religious war the other side thinks they are fighting to save the world. They are trying to save their world as they perceive it to be. Perception is everything!
We can win this war if we win over the common people on the other side. Without a population that they can swim in the guerillas have no place to hide. Cut the base out from under them, and they are finished. But, that is very hard too accomplish.
It reminds me of a comment made once by an Indian mine owner. He said, “It takes a certain amount of patience to operate a mica mine.”
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Temple of Wisdom 4u
Antiques and Me
When I was four years old my father bought us a new house that was built in 1772. The original deed for this property contained Stamp Act stamps from the Crown of England, and granted the land in the name of his Most Gracious Majesty, King George III, the King of England. My father bought the house furnishings and all. So I grew up in a house full of antiques, and it was not just furnishings it included a tremendous quantity of tools and farm equipment.
At the time I didn’t know the value of antiques, nor did anyone else in my family. My father, however, was the original Scotchman I swear to God he had the first nickel he ever made screwed to the head of his bed. I didn’t only get to see these things growing up, but I got to use all them too.
It absolutely amazed me to see these same artifacts hung up on a restaurant wall as a display of antique tools. None of them were antiques to me, I had used everyone of them. You take your average boy; he owned a metal snow shovel since we lived in snow country. I didn’t, mine was totally made of wood, and was over 150 years old when I first was handed it by my mother. It wasn’t too much later that I was introduced to another tool; a sickle. I wasn’t big enough to use a scythe yet.
When I was about eight years old I learned how to drive a team of draft horses doing the spring plowing, once again the plow and harrow were over 100 years old. This also included hand tools, and among them were axes and adzes, one and two man saws, buck saws with wooden frames, seeders, cultivating tools you walked behind and shoved by brute main force. This even included tools for harvesting ice off the lake across the street. I got to be pretty expert with all of these tools, even the pit saw used to saw lumber the old fashioned way. I was usually the guy in the pit pulling down on the saw, and getting all of the sawdust at the same time.
I came from a family where something didn’t work; you got handed a tool and were told to go and fix it. If you didn’t have the right tool, you went and got one that did work. This kind of training stood me in good stead later, but at the time I hated every minute of it.
It was years later that I discovered that I had a really unusual upbringing when I asked one of my fellow workers if he would hand me that thing that looked like a stove poker. He replied that he didn’t know what a stove poker looked like. I was astounded; I thought everybody knew what a stove poker looked like. This got me to thinking about my childhood and what a wonderful learning experience I had undergone.
When I was four years old my father bought us a new house that was built in 1772. The original deed for this property contained Stamp Act stamps from the Crown of England, and granted the land in the name of his Most Gracious Majesty, King George III, the King of England. My father bought the house furnishings and all. So I grew up in a house full of antiques, and it was not just furnishings it included a tremendous quantity of tools and farm equipment.
At the time I didn’t know the value of antiques, nor did anyone else in my family. My father, however, was the original Scotchman I swear to God he had the first nickel he ever made screwed to the head of his bed. I didn’t only get to see these things growing up, but I got to use all them too.
It absolutely amazed me to see these same artifacts hung up on a restaurant wall as a display of antique tools. None of them were antiques to me, I had used everyone of them. You take your average boy; he owned a metal snow shovel since we lived in snow country. I didn’t, mine was totally made of wood, and was over 150 years old when I first was handed it by my mother. It wasn’t too much later that I was introduced to another tool; a sickle. I wasn’t big enough to use a scythe yet.
When I was about eight years old I learned how to drive a team of draft horses doing the spring plowing, once again the plow and harrow were over 100 years old. This also included hand tools, and among them were axes and adzes, one and two man saws, buck saws with wooden frames, seeders, cultivating tools you walked behind and shoved by brute main force. This even included tools for harvesting ice off the lake across the street. I got to be pretty expert with all of these tools, even the pit saw used to saw lumber the old fashioned way. I was usually the guy in the pit pulling down on the saw, and getting all of the sawdust at the same time.
I came from a family where something didn’t work; you got handed a tool and were told to go and fix it. If you didn’t have the right tool, you went and got one that did work. This kind of training stood me in good stead later, but at the time I hated every minute of it.
It was years later that I discovered that I had a really unusual upbringing when I asked one of my fellow workers if he would hand me that thing that looked like a stove poker. He replied that he didn’t know what a stove poker looked like. I was astounded; I thought everybody knew what a stove poker looked like. This got me to thinking about my childhood and what a wonderful learning experience I had undergone.
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