Washinton Post Cartoon attacks wounded vets

Just recieved a letter from a Col. in our department where I work that contained a picture of the cartoon recently run in the Washington Post (29th Jan 06). (http://members.cox.net/subtexel/wash.bmp) I thought you all would like to see the reponse the Joint Chiefs of staff wrote up to the Washington Post in regards to the 'cartoon'. (http://members.cox.net/subtexel/washpost.pdf). I can't believe the stooped this low! The response is set to run in tomorrows paper.

I'll just go ahead and apologize in advance for thinking and unloading my thoughts on you.

I have this picture in my mind of a grandparents, family and a lot of parents and kids in a community opening a newspaper to find a cartoon of the Secretary of Transportation standing next to a beautiful little 8 year old boy who is screaming while being burned alive at the stake (vehicle accident with a log truck), his mother's head on top of the stake- and a beautiful 11 year old sister trying to get her brother off the stake and out of a fire fueled by 100 gallons of diesel fuel while her other brother lies dead nearby. She's screaming accusations that the log truck shouldn't have hit them, the yellow lines aren't wide enough, there should be concrete barricades between lanes on country roads, vehicles have no right to become airborne, trees should not grow near roads; screaming questions why 'the head' couldn't drive perfectly, why dangers can't just disappear or countless other senseless hysterical questions and reasons that the world should be perfect and just freaken isn't, and the caption has the Secretary of Transportation saying, 'It's a shame your mother was obviously a rotten driver, but what's a guy to do."

These people live in such a fantasy world dominated by paranoia. What's worse in MY little fantasy? They'd promise to get the little girl home and put her in a car with a drunk driver... and just down the road, there's bridge over a pond.

I hope that Toles, the Post, and those who promote this cartoon burn, alive, in Hell.

Now, I'm going to go check in with some folks who are, in reality, caring for and supporting a little girl and all the little friends, and are doing so with grace (just like the DCFReepers, etc.)- rather than denigrating her, her mother, and her family.
I love ya, man.

Started crying before I even clicked on your post.
The funeral was today-I spent it holding two 15 year old girls, and holding countless others later. My daughter left one of her star earrings on the casket, tucked inside a skateboard wheel. One of the little brother's classmate's dad was there, just back from Iraq, with his kids.

Life goes on. And the Mohammed cartoon has the world on it's ear while we're supposed to just suck this one up because this jerk thinks free speech is a blanket.

Oh, I'd just cherish five minutes with this cartoonist to whoop his a$$. He's a pansy. I could do it in three. He'd wish it was his daddy taking him out behind the woodshed. He's one of those schoolyard yellow cowards who wanted everyone to think he was tough but was such a puss and he used every dirty trick in the book to win a fight and damnit, still couldn't.

Thanks, Coop.

Might need the kind of hug that requires a white jacket with extra long sleeves if I go off on a rant. I'm trying to keep my lips zipped, but it's not working very well.

The skateboarder's best friend, who is a friend of ours, ONCE during the funeral made a gesture as though he was wiping mud off his face after four-wheeling. Once. He cried at the visitation, but not at the funeral. Tough little cookie, this boy. But he looked awful, has ever since it happened.

His dad is a Desert Storm vet who hasn't slept a solid night in 15 years and only admitted it-or acknowledged it outloud-this past New Years Eve when he unloaded it on me. (His hair all fell out after he returned, then came in white, fell out again, and came back normal.) His nightmares have to do with Iraqi children, but are about saving his own children. I laid hands on him and prayed after I told him to look at all the kids-his, his nieces, mine, and picture them sleeping peacefully at night because rough men stand ready. I think it all finally came to a head for him (thank God) because of my son and the stress of wondering what mine will experience brought it all out, at long last. He didn't attend the funeral. Folks can only take so much.

One minute. I'm down to one minute. I could whoop Toles' sorry arse in one minute.

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