Showing posts with label tarbaby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tarbaby. Show all posts

Monday, July 21, 2014

Israel's Hamas tar-baby


I support our alliance with Israel.

But the Israelis, our only true allies in the Middle East, have gotten themselves into a bad spot in Gaza, and we need to help them. Please pardon me if I use this term: we need to Bail them out.

The present rocket-exchanging debacle with Hamas in Gaza has turned into a disaster. Hamas started it by manipulating their own people into a perilous position that placed innocent, civilian residents of Gaza in harm's way. Thus Hamas have offered their own women, children and other innocents as victims on the altar of military politics.

Hamas has outfoxed Israel, because Israel now appears to be the aggressor because of the blood on its hands.

But it was Hamas who initiated the aggression when they began firing rockets from heavily-populated civilian locations, to lure the Israelis into grabbing hold of a tarbaby from which it can never free itself.

This is what Allies are for. The Israelis need our help because they've been drawn into a hopeless situation that can lead to no good outcome for them.

The theatre of war we have here is like Uncle Remus' tale of Br'er Rabbit and Br'er Fox. Hamas, playing the role of Br'er Rabbit, has tricked Israel into playing the Br'er Fox role and grabbin' onto the bloody tarbaby of Gazan atrocity.

"Don't you be messin' with my tar-baby in Gaza, Br'er Fox!" This was the ruse with which Br'er Rabbit taunted Israel, while setting up its own rocket-launching offense from tunnels they had dug right in the middle of Gaza's densely-populated civilian areas.

Unfortunately for Israel, Netanyahu and the IDF were desperate enough to take the bait. Now they be stuck on the tar-baby and can't get away. Now Israel has tarry blood on its hands in the midst of a massacre that becomes a holocaust for Gazans and a public relations disaster for Israel.

So I'll tell you, as an American citizen who is entitled to his opinion, what we need to do. Our United States of America armed forces need to move in. Send in the cavalry. Do a search and rescue surgical operation. Deliver the innocent Gazans from death and destruction, and rescue our ally Israel from political and military disaster at the same time:

Send in the yanks! Dispatch the special ops guys to do a surgical strike that will put an end to this bloody accident of history. Bail out our only true ally in the Middle East. Maybe send the Marines, or the Seals, or the Rangers. I don't know which team, but this is a job that our guys can do.

1.) Get the Israelis to back off, so we can move in from the Mediterranean side.

2.) Find the Hamas rocket-launchers and run them the hell out of those tunnels. Restore Gaza to the peaceful Gazan citizens.

3.) Clean up the mess. Bring in the UN or Red Cross, Red Crescent, whatever it takes to mend the wounded, bury the dead, and restore the neighborhoods of Gaza to their peaceful conditions.

4.) Destroy the Hamas rocket-launchers. Fill the tunnels with dirt. And don't let Hamas back into Gaza. Send the Israelis home; tell them to pay better attention next time. No more tarbabies.

If we could take out Gadaffi and Bin Laden, we can take Hamas out of Gaza, and teach our allies a lesson in the process. Mr. Netanyahu, be more careful next time. We don't want to make a habit of such interventions.

Smoke

Monday, August 30, 2010

Tales from the deep swamp

Down in Luzianna, way past Opelousas and Atchafalaya... I heer tell dar be strange tales emanatin' from da swamps at night. Folks be sayin' that ole Uncle Remus musta resurrected hisself, cuz he be dun toolin' hisself 'round on Bayou Lafourche.
I woodn lie to ya now, and 'sides it aint just me sayin...
Ole Couvillion and his buddy Broussard say they was out haulin in the crawfish nets 'bout dark-thirty. And land sakes alive if Uncle Remus don't come slowly polin' the pirogue and stops right beside of 'em, an' ax dem if he could have some crawfish, wif him be'in so hungry an all havn come all way from Gawgia.
"Sho'nuff," say Couvillion.
So dey carrys Uncle Remus backs to de fish camp and boils up a bunch dem crawfish wif a mess a poke sallet and chased it all wif a sixpack Jax.
After dey be done eatin Uncle Remus ax if da crawfish be a'right or was it tainted wif the oil spill.
Broussard he start to get little uppity but thought better of it. "Now what you think, Uncle Remus? Wha'd it tas' like to you?"
"Well I reckons it be a'right. It sho'nuff tas' good to me, been long time since ah had a mess uh dem crawfish."
"Well, a'right den!" proclaims Broussard, and he be lol.
"I do thanx you for the crawfish, sho'nuff, br'er, " an he lean back and got real still.
By n' by, da frogs got loud and da night gots quiet and still, 'sept fo da sacalait slappin' de cattails and de crickets rippin in de cypress knees. The lucky ole moon be shinin' an de swamp rabbit be yawnin' an' by n' by Uncle Remus he say:
"I gots to tell ya 'bout da tar baby."
Br'er Couvillion open one eye and he say, "De what?"
"De tar baby," say Uncle Remus."
"You means de tar baby what br'er fox got hisself stuck to a'fore he try to t'row br'er rabbit in da brier patch?"
"No," say Uncle Remus, real slow. "D'is be a dif'rent kind tar baby."
"What kinda tar baby dat be, Uncle Remus?"
Uncle Remus, he look down at the firelight and he thought for a minute, wrinkled his forehead. Den he say,
"In de wake of dat Deepwater horizon sitiation, ole Br'er Pet and his den of foxy lawyers--dey be stuck fast to da mucka muck claims and deepdown damages an' can o' compensational worms' mire in da boggy courts, an' it be like a big judicial tar baby fo' years an years fo' Br'er Pet, an' dey will sho'nuff be stuck to dem spill lit'gations and lit'gators--as stuck as stuck can be."
"Cluster-stuck!" say Couvillion.
"Da's right," say Uncle Remus, an he look so sad. "An' wha's mo--dat aint all."
"What else?" ax Broussard.
"All dem claimants and plaintiffs--dey be juz as stuck, cuz you cant get no bloody oil out'a no turnup"
"Naw!"
"Sho'nuff," say Uncle Remus, real sad.
"What what in world we gon' do, Uncle Remus? We's 'bout busted up now already as it is!."
"Well, dey's one thing you gots to remember, br'er Broussard."
"Whas'sat, Uncle Remus?
Ole Uncle Remus he raise his head up slow and he look Couvillion and Broussard in der eyes, and he say, "When you be ass-deep in lit'gators, juz remember your objective was to drain de swamp."
Couvillion he gots mad. "So what, Uncle Remus! How you 'xpect dey ever gon' clean up dat mess wid all dem lit'gators ass-deep?"
"Call in Br'er Bird."
"Say what? Br'er who?"
"Br'er Bird. He be one fine bird for cleanin' up dis mess, ya'll. He be bo'n and bred for juz dis kind of mediation. He sho'nuff will get Br'er Pet and de plaintiffs both unstuck from dat litigious tarbaby. Why, juz yesterday I hear him say to Br'er Neil on de radio:


"Until Novermber 23rd, if you're eligible...and very importantly, you must be able to provide minimal documentation of your damage, I will cut you a check without any waiver of any rights...Of course I will (give you compensation). Prove it. Give me some indication...doesn't have to be a tax return. It can be W2s; it can be a profit and loss statement; it can be a checkbook; it can be the statement of your ship's captain, the statement, even, of your priest, but prove you've lost what you say you've lost. I can't just give away the money.I have to be ever vigilant about fraud, but I'll bend over backwards to help get you some emergency compensation."

(And to a caller): "Show me your contracts that you lost.That's the simplest way. Show me the canceled contracts. Also, show me where you were employed, where your business was. Was it on the Gulf? How close to the Gulf? How directly impacted by the beaches and the fish and the shrimp, and the oysters, and I'll try to do everything I can to get you paid."

"Sho'nuff?" say Couvillion.
"Da's right," say Uncle Remus. "Dat tarbaby be one helluva a sticky mess, but you gots to start somewhere to drain dat swamp, and it look to me like Br'er fine Bird gots a good startin' out place."
"You so right, Uncle Remus," say Broussard.
Den dey all t'ree lay back and snooze 'til mo'nin while dem crawfishes crawl in de traps