Haven't been called Sparky in a while. Three dits, four dits, two dits, dah; ought-six eats it, rah, rah, rah. Dang. Still got it after all these years.
“Got it. Nancy Pelosi issues orders to the military and they say yes Ma’am and the plane, the flight, and the crew magically appear by order of the Speaker of the House. Nope, Nancy did not need authorization from anyone. Why, the President and the whole Executive Branch had nothing to do with it and bear no responsibility whatever. Joe can explain to China that he had nothing to do with it. Executive Branch diplomatic coordination for the trip also just happened spontaneously upon a press leak from the Speaker. Haven’t been called Sparky in a while. Three dits, four dits, two dits, dah; ought-six eats it, rah, rah, rah. Dang. Still got it after all these years.”
Your reasoning is somewhat shy of being coherent.
First off, SOTH does not issue orders to the military, as SOTH is not in the military chain of command. The military does make transportation available to the SOTH as appropriate.
You were clearly never in the US military.
Congress is a co-equal branch of government, and thus SOTH does not need “permission” from either of the other branches. The branches may coordinate, and share intel, but they do not have veto power over one another except as specified for legislation.
I worked with Morse when I was in the USAFSS (that was United States Air Force Security Service back in the day). I read Morse. So grow up.
As for Sparky. The name is not a reference to any ditty-bopper.
Let me tell you about Sparky.
Sparky was an annoying little ankle-biter; a real pissant.
Sparky was a Chihuahua; couldn’t have weighed more than three pounds.
I grew up in the 1950s and early 1960s. We were Baby Boomers. Every house in the neighborhood had kids. One of our neighbors had a Chihuahua named Sparky. Sparky would always sneak up behind us, snarling, and nip at our heels and ankles.
Sparky was usually let out in the front yard to take his little rat-sized craps.
One day Sparky met his fate. One of the kids in the neighborhood was riding his bike along the sidewalk in front of Sparky’s house. The kid had his bike all decked out with old playing cards attached to the frame by wooden clothes pins, such that they would be struck by the rotating spokes and make a high-pitched rumbling sound like a small engine. Well, Sparky went after the back tire of that bike and tried to nip it, but he caught his teeth in the spokes and in a flash he was smooshed between the wheel and the frame and the bicycle seat. Sic transit Sparky.
Anyway, about a month or two later, four of us kids (we were, I think, 12 at the time) got together behind the garage to smoke; one of the kids had copped a couple of his mom’s cigarettes. Well, we’re back there, sharing the smokes (there were two cigarettes and four of us, so we doubled up), and one of the kids’ little sister showed up. She must have been about 4 or 5 years old, a couple front teeth missing, and hair in dog-ear pigtails. She kind of whistle-hissed (missing front teeth, you know): “I’m gonna tell mom on you!” Well, one of us – not her brother – just looked at her and said, “Get lost, Sparky.”
And, it just evolved from there.
From that time on we called any whiny, bratty, sneaky, tattle-tale, Sparky. You know; any annoying little shit.