Part II is here and covers the finger pointing the first day the “issue” with Rep. Mark Foley bubbled to up from beneath the swamp water to see the light of day.

Today, a short post on the topic. I believe I know the end game of the physicists looking for the Grand Unification Theory formula. Once they have discerned it, everything else will be understood exactly how it relates to everything else in the physical science world.

With those seeking the single thing/person/animal/mineral/vegtable that is the cause of all “badness” in the universe, what next? If “it” says “sorry!” will we then all move along and go back to living? Will we drop the “hunt” and be satisfied? Will we secretly break out our notes, hiding under the bedcovers, using a flashlight to illuminate our scribbling and tell ourselves “There must be something ELSE!”?

How long will it take for “goodness” to break out on the plant, where all men and women love and respect each other, when no one goes hyngry, when there is nary a molecule of “Greenhouse” gas left to cause the inordinate heating of the precious plant? How long, I ask those of you who seek this answer.

I thought of this because of the many, many press conferences when some unbiased, non-glory seeking, bright and intelligent journalists ask President Bush “Sir, what mistakes have you made in ______?” Add to that the many angry editorials where the writers DEMAND the President say he made mistakes.

Ok, so if one day, before his term is over, President Bush says he has committed a specific mistake. Sometimes he does allow for “yes, I’ve made a few mistakes” type of response, but then ignores the clamoring press corps that yells in unison “WHAT MISTAKE DID YOU MAKE?” as he turns and walks from the podium, waving and smiling. So, pretend President Bush says: “I made a mistake counting on the reliability of the intelligence that was provided to me by the CIA.”

Will you (you know who you are) then take a deep breath, breathe a sigh of relief and then say to yourself “FINALLY!” and get on about your life, no longer obsessed with just.getting.HIM.to.say IT?

This, while the topic is not fully explored for the purposes of this series, is the most pressing issue at hand. If we can find who definitively who it is to blame, will we let it go and then do something uplifting and productive for the rest of our days?

From Politics of a Patriot, Holly reports she got this email from Sew Much Comfort asking for some help.

I’m quoting it so you all can pass it along, and also take a minute and a few bucks to get a card in the mail to Sgt Kevin Downs:

OK, I have a favor to ask. There is a young soldier (a 23 year old Tennessee National Guardsman) named Sgt. Kevin Downs. He was blown out of his tank in Baghdad a year ago and left with no feet, mangled arms, and burns over 60% of his body. He is a Tennessee boy. Everyone else in the tank was killed. His condition is not good. A surgery to improve the use of fingers on one hand inadvertently caused previous skin grafts to break down, and the grafts on his legs are cracking as well and may require beginning over at square one.

Kevin is tired and low in spirits. He needs our prayers and support through cards. Would you please send him a note or card to let him know you are thinking about him? Remember him in your prayers as well. Now I am going to ask a special favor from me. Would you please send this to as many people that you can in your e-mail addresses? I would love to see him get cards from everywhere and hopefully he will know that people all over the country appreciate him leaving the safety of his home and country and fighting for our freedoms. I love America and know that it could very well be one of my family members. Thank you for all that you will do. God Bless.

His address is:
Sgt Kevin Downs
Brooke Army Medical Center
3851 Roger Brooke Dr.
Fort Sam Houston, TX 78234 USA

OR:
Sgt Kevin Downs
PO Box 118
Kingston Springs, TN 37028

Footnote: This is the mission of Sew Much Comfort:

Anyone want to help out?

Sometime in late 1989, there I was, watching Marty, the valiant rotary wing aviator and Det Officer-in-Charge (OIC), and one of his boy wonders saunter past me in the centerline passageway, wearing their flight helmets, and carrying helmet bags that appeared to have helmets in them. Me, having recalled the warning to always heed the “little warning bells in the back of your head” at Prospective Executive Officer (PXO) school, I called to marty to inquire at what looked to be out of sorts.

It went something like this:

Me: “Marty, what’s in the helmet bags?”
Marty: “Oh, tapes, XO.”
Me: “Really, what kind?”
Marty: “Music cassettes.”
Me: “Why, pray tell, are you taking music cassettes up in the helo?”
Marty: “The training device in the console can also play music.”

Interesting. Never forget sailors (and officers) will always figure out the capabilities of anything you provide to them. I will admit to also being much like that as a JO. Certainly if one person doesn’t, the next one will, and the word spreads.

Me: “So, you’re gonna be cranking up the tunes while you fly your mission?”
Marty: “Sure, it gets boring up there.”

That, well not exactly the precise words, nevertheless, portray the conversation. They headed out to pre-flight and off they went into the skies over the Med, or the Persian Gulf, to head bang while conducting surface surveillance. I’m sure they were not the only crew in the fleet to figure out they had a built in stereo system to chase away the boredom while being vibrated along with several thousand other parts of the SH-60B airframe.

The epilogue to this happened a few years later, when I was inspecting Atlantic Fleet ships for Combat Systems readiness. I poked my head into the Electronic Warfare module of a DDG-38 Class ship, and pushing back the curtain, saw the Electronic Warfare On Board Trainer (EWOBT), an IBM PC system, equipped with a CD-ROM, off to the side. This computer was fielded to keep EW operators proficient by running training scenarios, complete with audio of various electronic emitters fro the CD-ROMs provided. The headset hung close by on a hook, and there was a heavy metal band music CD laying out of it’s jewel case on top of the case. Once more, being curious, I asked the EW on watch what the CD was there for. “Oh, we can play music CDs on there, too” he said without flinching, or thinking. I had had an EWOBT on my ship (same as the one discussed above with the musical helo), and had no clue the EWs were most likely playing tunes while on watch, looking very much like they were sharpening their skills as EW operators. Oh, well.

I made a point of letting the officers on the ships that the EWs might also be enjoying some entertainment on the mid-watch.