November 28, 2010

A Festive Song for the Season

I am compelled to offer a few thoughts regarding an instance of casual monstrousness from last week:
JUST WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS NOW: North Korea fires artillery barrage on South. If they start anything, I say nuke ‘em. And not with just a few bombs. They’ve caused enough trouble — and it would be a useful lesson for Iran, too. We can’t afford another Korean war, but hey, we’re already dismantling warheads. . . .
If you are inclined to put on extra-strength protective gear, you can slog through Reynolds' festering archives to find identical cries of Nuke 'em! when the subject of Iran's nuclear facilities has been in the news; I myself am dissuaded from doing so by the immediate onset of overpowering nausea when I contemplate further exposure to naked evil of this kind.

For the record: when launching a nuclear attack on Iran seemed all but inevitable, I offered a lengthy examination of the inescapable reasons why such an attack would be evil on a scale that all but forbids contemplation: from April 2006, "Morality, Humanity and Civilization: 'All that remains ... is memories.'" After I considered why any attack on Iran, even an attack limited to conventional weapons, would be "a blatant, naked act of aggression against a country that does not threaten us," I set out some estimates concerning the consequences of the "tactical" use of nuclear weapons. The details from an article I excerpted are worth repeating:
So let’s look at what the human costs of dropping a tactical nuclear weapon on Iran might entail.

They are astronomical.

"The number of deaths could exceed a million, and the number of people with increased cancer risks could exceed 10 million," according to a backgrounder by the Union of Concerned Scientists from May 2005.

The National Academy of Sciences studied these earth-penetrating nuclear weapons last year. They could "kill up to a million people or more if used in heavily populated areas," concluded the report, which was sponsored by the U.S. Department of Defense.

Physicians for Social Responsibility examined the risks of a more advanced buster-bunker weapon, and it eerily tabulated the toll from an attack on the underground nuclear facility in Esfahan, Iran. "Three million people would be killed by radiation within two weeks of the explosion, and 35 million people in Afghanistan, Pakistan, and India, would be exposed to increased levels of cancer-causing radiation," according to a summary of that study in the backgrounder by the Union of Concerned Scientists.
I then remarked: "Even if these estimates are off by a factor of two or three, I think we have unquestionably entered genocidal territory." (With regard to a comparatively very minor point: Reynolds may well be correct that certain Democratic loyalists would perform yet another turnabout and praise Obama for his "courage" were he to attack North Korea. But I am very far from resembling a Democratic apologist even remotely, and I most certainly would not. I've already explained why Obama is a war criminal, a charge that I prove repeatedly. If he were to attack North Korea -- or Iran -- he might well deserve to be called the worst American president to date, surpassing even Woodrow Wilson in terms of the far-reaching consequences of his calamitously awful policies.)

Needless to say, considerations of the kind set out above are of no concern to the warmongers, for they are genuine warriors and real men. I can only contemplate with admiration and envy such stunningly sophisticated expertise in the realm of foreign policy, which might best be summarized as: "America, FUCK YEAH!!"

Leaving aside the huge numbers of innocent people who would be murdered by the dropping of nuclear weapons on North Korea -- individuals whose primary and often sole concern is avoiding starvation, and who cannot reasonably be found guilty of any wrong against the United States under any analysis (and if you do leave this factor aside, may you be damned) -- it hardly requires world-shattering brilliance to acknowledge that widespread death and horrifying illness from radiation and nuclear fallout might be a concern to, say, China and Japan (among others). And then there are the tens of thousands of U.S. soldiers very nearby, in South Korea. What of them? And how difficult is it to imagine that a U.S. attack on North Korea could very quickly lead to escalation involving other countries? One lesson that history teaches repeatedly is the immense, incalculable danger of unforeseen consequences. Yet as I observed in the earlier essay: "We refuse to learn any lessons at all."

Once more, I note with deep regret that I remain so hopelessly transfixed by the possible, nay probable and in some respects certain, consequences of our actions. But I realize these are not issues for real men. So I deliver an emphatic Phooey! to all that.

Let us enter into the spirit of the season, and permit me to bring you tidings of great joy. I fear that certain readers may question my bona fides as a real American and a real man. You can now put your doubts firmly to the side, for I have written new lyrics to a seasonal song.

This is to be sung to the tune from A Charlie Brown Christmas (of course!), and it goes like this:
Nuking time is here
Spreading death and fear
Fun for all that real men call
Their favorite time of year

Peeling skin in air
Corpses everywhere
Cities razed and millions gone
Of screams and cries to share

Body parts in air
Puking everywhere
Yuletide by the mass graveside
And bloodlust memories there

Nuking time is here
From our blogs we'll cheer
Oh, that we could always see
Nukes flying through the year
Oh, that we could always see
Nukes flying through the year...
I'm convinced this will become a Christmas classic in time. I shall retire on the royalties.

If you want to prove that you are a real, patriotic American, you will write some additional verses. The possibilities are endless. In keeping with the subtle and complex approach consistently demonstrated by the eager warmongers among us, whenever a performance of this charming song is completed, everyone must stand up and yell as loudly as they can -- oh, you guessed:


God, I feel so manly and so bloody American.

To maintain my festive spirits, I will buy the largest Christmas tree I can find and decorate it with marvelously lifelike replicas of a variety of body parts. (Crap: just replicas. I'm so disgustingly, incurably weak.)

This will be the best Christmas ever.