Posted on 09/03/2002 8:24:00 PM PDT by blam
I heard they just wave white flags.
I agree. The idea that Powell is running around like General McAurther dictating his own policy is ridiculous. Powell is following the script. He may be the appeasement king behind closed doors, but in public he carries out orders.
"The bridge controls started going crazy.
These engines are beginning to show signs of stress.
The emergency bypass control of the matter anti-matter integrator is fused.
If we keep this speed we'll blow up any minute now.
Captain whatta we do?!"
Then it's instant war, with almost everyone on board. It's a risk to be faced under any inspection scenario, but if we have the men and materiel in place for a full invasion, we have a much better shot at extracting them by force.
I do understand your point; I know what The Guardian is and I think you have described them perfectly.
He was saying that as important as allies are, doing the right thing is still more important!
He did say that, before they went off on a little editorializing adventure.
One summer day the Little Red Hen found a grain of wheat.
"A grain of wheat!" said the Little Red Hen to herself. "I will plant it."
She asked the duck: "Will you help me plant this grain of wheat?"
"Not I," said the duck.
She asked the goose: "Will you help me plant this grain of wheat?"
"Not I," said the goose.
She asked the cat: "Will you help me plant this grain of wheat?"
"Not I," said the cat.
She asked the pig: "Will you help me plant this grain of wheat?"
"Not I," said the pig.
"Then I will plant it myself," said the Little Red Hen.
And she did.
Soon the wheat grew tall, and the Little Red Hen knew it was time to reap it.
"Who will help me reap the wheat?" she asked.
"Not I," said the duck.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Not I," said the cat.
"Not I," said the pig.
"Then I will reap it myself," said the Little Red Hen.
And she did.
So she reaped the wheat, and it was ready to take to the mill to be made into flour.
"Who will help me carry the wheat to the mill?" she asked.
"Not I," said the duck.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Not I," said the cat.
"Not I," said the pig.
"Then I will carry it myself," said the Little Red Hen.
And she did.
So she carried the wheat to the mill and the miller made it into flour, and she carried the flour home.
When she got there, she asked, "Who will help me make the flour into dough?"
"Not I," said the duck.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Not I," said the cat.
"Not I," said the pig.
"Then I will make the dough myself," said the Little Red Hen.
And she did.
So she put on a white apron, and mixed the dough. Soon the bread was ready to go into the oven.
"Who will help me bake the bread?" said the Little Red Hen.
"Not I," said the duck.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Not I," said the cat.
"Not I," said the pig.
"Then I will bake it myself," said the Little Red Hen.
And she did.
After the loaf had been taken from the oven it was set on the table to cool.
"And now," said the Little Red Hen, "who will help me to eat the bread?"
"I will!" said the duck.
"I will!" said the goose.
"I will!" said the cat.
"I will!" said the pig.
"No, I will eat it myself!" said the Little Red Hen.
And she did.
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