Wednesday, April 28, 2004

It hurts me more than it hurts you dept.

OK. I'm running my heart out at the treadmill at Y like the mindless hamster I am. There before my eyes, on the CardioTheater teevee, I see scenes of wicked torture at the Abu Grabass prison in Iraq. Some dude wired up like a Christmas tree. A pile of naked male bodies, black rectangles strategically placed over the naughty bits.

Call me negative, but this is not going to win hearts and minds of the Iraqi people -- or, for that matter, extract useful intelligence.

This is not intelligence gathering. This is not some ticking clock scenario out of "24."

This is more like sicko, Fraternity hazing sadism. Or S&M depravity. My apologies to my many S&M readers, but these poor bastards didn't sign up for this shit. They didn't have a safe word.

There's only one reason for this shit. It's calculated to humiliate, degrade and break the spirits of the people you do it to. It usually has the opposite effect.

As in -- creating an unquenchable, white-hot hatred in the people you've humiliated.

I think we've just lost the war.