The Black Republican

A week ago, in a pique of frustration, I explained to a liberal commenter on Ace's site that he risks encouraging real torture by protesting coercive interrogation techniques. After all, if we're going to be accused of being sadistic monsters, and all efforts to claim otherwise are dismissed without the benefit of real debate, we might as well do it right and get the adreneline rush.

But James Taranto uses his patented not-so-subtle insinuation techniques to suggest there's a better way to get satisfaction.

This is the first time we can remember being the object of torture fantasies aired on a major newsmagazine's Web site. We must say, it's perversely flattering.

What of Sullivan's suggestion that we undergo uncomfortable procedures that he thinks are "torture"? We might consider submitting to "waterboarding" out of sheer journalistic curiosity. It doesn't seem as though we'd learn much from sleep deprivation or sitting in a cold room; we can easily imagine the ways in which those would be uncomfortable, and we prefer comfort. Of course, we are not a terrorist, and if we have any useful information, we put it here in this column quite voluntarily.

I strongly suggest this piece by Richard Miniter as "Recommended Reading".

On the radio this morning (paraphrased):

Yesterday, he gave a speech at the UN calling President Bush "the devil". Today he's in Brooklyn promoting low-cost home heating oil for low-income residents.

Can we hire Patricia C. Dunn (no relation) to replace Valerie Plame at the CIA?

FULL DISCLOSURE: One of the links above leads to The Fifth Column.

I strongly suggest this piece by Richard B. Woodward as "Recommended Reading".

After my appearance on Daybreak this morning, I finally decided to set up a page for local Southwest Florida content. For now, it'll just be a single category off The Black Republican, but I've rigged this category to appear under a different title: The Black Neighbor.

Like our other sister site, The Black Madonna, we've added a punny tagline as an introductory description of the content you'll find here, because I only hope I'm making a few of my North Fort Myers neighbors uncomfortable with my conservatism.

I'll warn you that, like TBM, we might end up fallow most of the time. Or maybe not. I've never been too interested in local politics, but it could be I just haven't forced myself to get more involved. With familiarity may come passion.

All I can promise is that when I post, the content here will be devoted specifically to topics related to life in Southwest Florida, and I'll do my best to make some people think twice about what they've said and done before they say and do it again.

I strongly suggest this piece by Jules Crittenden, Boston Herald as "Recommended Reading".

I strongly suggest this piece by Christopher Hitchens as "Recommended Reading".

It was May 6, 1978, and I was a nine-year old whelp who would soon be 10. We had gathered at a relative's home - I'm pretty sure it was my cousin Peggy Ryan's apartment in Flushing - for one of the dozens of family gatherings we would regularly have on the weekends throughout any given year when I was a kid. We were a very close-knit Irish clan scattered around New York and New Jersey, but with the exception of my father's brother Gerald (who lived and worked in El Paso, Texas as an official for the US Border Patrol) we all lived in the greater metropolitan area within an hour of the Big Apple. The idea of gathering together a bunch of us from across a dozen different families once or twice a month was never any harder than figuring out some lame excuse to have a party.

That day, the excuse was actually a fairly good one, hatched by Aunt Nora. Two branches of the extended family spawned by the Four Famous Forkin sisters and their equally rambunctious brothers, the O'Conors and the Kellys spent so much time together, my Dad and "Uncle Bill" were more like brothers than first cousins, and Nora was Bill's bubbly better half. It was Nora's idea that year that we would have a Kentucky Derby party. Of course, it goes without saying that a Kentucky Derby party is pointless unless you follow it up a couple of weeks later with a Preakness party, to see if the Derby winner might take the second jewel. And if the lucky horse had another strong showing, it should follow two weeks later with a Belmont Stakes party, so we could all watch the mile-and-a-half dash for a Triple Crown.

In other words, Nora was betting we'd be fortunate enough to need three parties held at three different homes over the course of five weeks. With my sister getting married in June, and my brother getting married in August, we'd all be spending a good portion of the summer hanging around one another. Again. And we'd expect nothing less.

Nora was sure we were going to have a good show that day. Two horses were so well regarded, it was the first time since 1960 that two different entries were coming in at less than 2-to-1 in the odds. And to make the day especially fun, we'd have a pot luck draw of numbers at a buck each, just to make the race all that much more interesting. I vaguely recall my father allowing me to put his $1 in the bowl and draw our number. Looking back on the details I find on the net, "Believe It" may have been our horse, but I'm not really sure.

But there was a lot I do remember clearly from that day. First are the names of those two chestnut colts that were so highly rated that spring and summer: one was named Alydar. The other was named Affirmed. I remember like it was yesterday the smile on the face of Peggy's husband Tom Ryan - son-in-law of my Dad's sister Agnes Clark - when he pulled the name of Alydar from the bowl. And I remember the cocky, freckle-faced grin as my Aunt Mary Dunn's youngest son picked the name of Affirmed. His name was Patrick, and he was 16.

As the race started, Tommy - ever the kid at heart - jumped in front of the TV and started bouncing up and down on his knees. "COME ON, ALYDAR!"

Patrick, of course, would have none of that. "COME ON, AFFIRMED!"

"COME ON, ALYDAR!" Tommy would yell again.

"COME ON, AFFIRMED!" Pat would screech back.

It went back and forth like that for the entire stretch. And though I sat with a lump in my throat and a losing piece of scratch paper in my hand, I was laughing hysterically as the red-headed kid from Fords, New Jersey was merciless in his torment of big Tom Ryan at the finish. I admired his fearless spunk as Pat waved his newfound cash in the nose of a guy that had to be standing a foot taller than him at the time. Of course, I wasn't even 10, and couldn't fully appreciate that Tom was probably the most gentle creature in the room, and Pat had nothing to fear from him in any case.

Two weeks later, Nora tried in vain to set up another pool like we'd had on Derby Day. But when the bowl started around, Tommy wrestled it away from the little round woman, and wouldn't give it up until he'd found the piece of paper with Alydar's number on it. Patrick, not to be outdone, came up next and did the same until he found Affirmed's number. And so the scene was replayed again on the floor of another house, in front of another TV.

"COME ON, ALYDAR!"

"COME ON, AFFIRMED!"

If you're old enough to remember, you can guess the utter dejection Tommy went through that afternoon. By the time we got to the Belmont, Nora didn't want to waste anyone else's money - or Tommy's sanity - on yet another rigged pool. But there they were again, back on the floor.

"COME ON, ALYDAR!"

"COME ON, AFFIRMED!"

It's getting close to 30 years now, and Affirmed remains the last horse to win the Triple Crown. To this day, I can't meet Tom Ryan at a wedding or a baptism without hearing the echo of hoofbeats in my ears.

And it's that freckle-faced, red-headed teenager with the cash in his fist I think of whenever someone says, "Never forget".

This essay is dedicated to my cousin Cdr. Patrick S. Dunn, for the 2,996 Project. Additional reflections will be added to the extended entry until Patriot Day on Monday.

Pat was a remarkable kid. No, not in the way most people mean it, when they're talking about the valedictorian, or the star athlete, or the popular socialite. Pat was a first-rate, unapologetic clown. The pre-eminent practical joker. The star of the party. But he wasn't any of those things because he wanted attention, like most comedians. He just wanted to have fun, and he didn't just want you to have fun too - he was bound and determined to personally ensure it happened.

I don't remember too many examples. In fact, other than the story I post above, my memories of Pat are a blur of my childhood, mixed with a blur of my teenage years, when he was busy at the Naval Academy and I was busy being wrapped up in all those things teenagers think are important.

By the time we were both adults, he was a busy naval officer, and I was a cadet at a private military college, trying to earn an Army officer's commission through ROTC.

When I found myself in the same room as Pat, I was always so intimidated by his natural likability, I found it hard to interrupt. It would have been like stopping a great actor in the middle of the big scene, or trying to start a conversation in the middle of the band's big number. It was better to just sit back, soak it up, and enjoy. I'm sure if I was around my family more, someone would remind me of a memory, and I could say, "Oh, YEAH!" But living in exile in Florida (a long story for another time), I don't get near enough of those times for my taste.

I do remember - not an image in my mind, or a sound in my ears, but a feeling. It was that pit in my stomach whenever we'd end up at one of those family gatherings and someone would say, "No, the Dunns couldn't make it." Or the stretched, fake feeling of my cheek muscles as I forced a smile, when Pat's sister Mary would explain where he was and why he couldn't come along with the family. I love all the Dunns dearly, and I cherish the times when I get to see them. But Pat... it just was never the same without Pat.

And I always thought there would be a day when we both slowed down, that I could sit down and have a good chat, and a beer, and a laugh with Pat. If not sooner, then definitely when we were older. When we were gray.

But Pat got old and gray far sooner than I ever expected. White as a stone in Arlington National Cemetary.

Patrick wasn't exactly a Rhodes scholar. In fact, I've been told his grades in high school were somewhere short of pitiful. His attempts to get into Annapolis were suffering a bit from comparison to his brother John, who was - and is - often remarked as being "the smartest man in the room". When I heard that Pat's Congressman wouldn't provide him with the appointment he needed to attend the Naval Academy, I thought that was it, and he'd never get in.

But Uncle Bob - John and Pat's father - wouldn't take "no" for an answer. He must have called half of Washington, and in the end, we found out something we'd never known: Congressmen and Senators aren't the only way to get an appointment to one of the service academies. Various members of a presidential administration, including the President himself, the Vice-President, and the Secretary of Defense, each have a reserve of appointments they are able to provide to exceptional applicants who were not provided the standard appointment by a Member of Congress. Through Uncle Bob's persistance, Patrick received an appointment from one of 50 alloted to the Secretary of the Navy.

Annapolis was even tougher on Pat than high school was. I've heard some of the instructors who had known John couldn't help but chide Patrick for not being as good a student as his brother. But Patrick was a rock - someone his superiors could count on, and a steady friend to his fellow classmates. He excelled at the military and leadership training beyond the standard classwork.

When I attended their sister Mary's wedding - in my own uniform as a VFMJC cadet - both naval officers were able to get leave to attend. I can't recall if it was then or sometime afterward, but I eventually learned that Patrick was succeeding beyond everyone's expectations, while John was having some difficulties in his career. John, still the expert in everything he did, wasn't afraid to tell the unvarnished truth to his superiors, and more than a few didn't appreciate it. Patrick, on the other hand, being much more affable - not to mention diplomatic - was able to be honest without so much confrontation. When Patrick was given an order, it got done - and without anyone feeling their toes had been unfairly stepped on.

John would eventually retire as a Lieutenant Commander, while many saw Admiral's stars in Patrick's future. Among his assignments, he was stationed in the Persian Gulf during the First Gulf War, he served aboard the USS Inchon, the USS Montgomery, and the USS Theodore Roosevelt. For two years, he worked at the Pentagon, before he was assigned as Executive Officer of the USS La Salle while she sailed the Mediterranean out of Italy. In January, 2001, he returned to Washington DC as the youngest-serving full Commander in the United States Navy at the time.

His job for this tour of duty was to serve as a Surface Warfare specialist in the office of the Chief of Naval Operations. His office was one of the safest duty stations in the world: the E-ring of the Pentagon, where no foreign military would ever dare attack.

Pat lives on in the memory of some whose life he touched, and of all who knew him.

And some who never would.

With a little bit of help from their mother, two home-schooled kids named Ben and Noah have their own blog, even though they're barely able to write. As if "Tree Fort Enterprises TM, Parent Company of Better Than A Lemonade Stand" isn't cool enough in itself, the two lads have managed a moving tribute to Lester Vincent Marino and his family, which are, together, probably the best eulogy I've ever seen on the net to one of the casualties on September 11th.

I strongly suggest this piece by Peggy Noonan as "Recommended Reading".

This may be a bit of a stretch of wishful thinking (then again, maybe not), but suspend your disbelief for a little while and follow the logic just so we can discuss the potential ramifications.

Earlier today, the President announced that 14 "high-value" prisoners are being transferred to detention at Guantanamo Bay, "including Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, the alleged mastermind of the Sept.11 attacks, Abu Zubaydah, and senior al Qaeda leader Ramzi Binalshibh."

While the detainees may not be household names, they were top aides to Osama bin Laden, and the veritable "crown jewels" of the military operations that have been conducted in Afghanistan.

Many detainees were given the legal status of "enemy combatant," which includes both lawful enemy combatants and unlawful enemy combatants....

Bush called on Congress to "list the specific recognizable offenses that would be considered crimes under the War Crimes Act so our personnel can know clearly what is prohibited in the handling of terrorist enemies."

He also asked that Congress "make explicit that by following the standards of the Detainee Treatment Act, our personnel fulfill America's obligations under Common Article III of the Geneva Conventions."

Last, he requested that Congress "make it clear that captured terrorists cannot use the Geneva Conventions as grounds to sue our personnel in courts - in U.S. courts."

The president also criticized the decision of the Supreme Court that hindered previous attempts to prosecute the prisoners. In late June, the Supreme Court decided to block military tribunals for detainees, stating the prisoners were subject to international law and the Geneva Conventions.

"We have a right under the laws of war, and an obligation to the American people, to detain these enemies and stop them," Bush said in his afternoon address.

But is that it?

The Supreme Court decision was a major rebuke to the Bush administration, as it required the president to first seek the approval of Congress before ordering prisoners to be tried for war crimes.

The decision forced the administration to reconsider the legal battle against the prisoners, and made their future uncertain.

Bush urged Congress to make the legislation a top priority in the next session as the issues are "urgent" and "time is of the essence."

Why, in two short months, we're going to have an election, of course. And the fate of our Republic might very well hang in the balance. The Dems have been crowing that they'll take back Congress and "hold the President accountable". It's clear the New Copperheads have taken up sides against the Administration, whatever the cost. Republican morale has been at a low ebb, and the Fourth Estate has become the Fifth Column.

What can the Republicans possibly do to break the stranglehold of the Vietnam Syndrome and defend America from its enemies in The Novemeber Campaign?

I think it possible - and the more I read, the more I think likely - that the President is setting us all up for an October Surprise unlike anything the Democrats have ever dreamed up. Nothing we've heard today contradicts the core of the Administrations' contentions all along - and in fact, they are bluntly asking Congress to give them a green light for something spectacular. An October Surprise without any pretense of being an accident.

Before the 1970s, the category of unlawful enemy combatant was widely understood and accepted as a critical part of the laws of war. Such individuals do not fight on behalf of sovereign states, have no regular and transparent command structure, do not wear uniforms, do not carry their arms openly and do not obey the laws of war. As a result, they present a particularly dangerous threat to civil society in general and the civilian population in particular.

To deter this type of illegitimate, asymmetric warfare, unlawful combatants have historically been denied the rights of prisoners of war and could be severely punished after the most abbreviated of proceedings. By the mid-20th century, custom entitled them to certain minimum due process protections — notice of the charges, an opportunity to make a defense (not necessarily to a lawyer) and to a hearing, but little else.

What if, after a few short days, or perhaps a full week before a military tribunal conducted according to the freshly-minted rules laid out by Congress, and hardly a month past the 5th anniversary of the September 11th attacks he masterminded, Khalid Sheikh Mohammed is convicted of war crimes, sentenced to execution, and hanged by the neck until dead in a courtyard of the Guantanamo Bay detention center? If this was carried out just a few days short of the election, how many Republicans would shrug off the despair of the illegal immigration debate, shrug off the depressing weight of deficit spending, and happily charge to the polls to reward the Congress that tossed aside the oppression of political correctness to deliver to our September 11th dead their long-delayed and well-earned justice? How many?

Dear Lord, I may not always understand the tactics she's playing, but I love this woman.

Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice is drawing a parallel between the Iraq war and the Civil War. Both had their critics but both were justified, she says.

In both cases, it was the right decision to fight and see the wars through, Rice, a southern-born African-American, said in an interview with Essence Magazine.

Asked if she still thought the decision to go to war in Iraq in 2003 was right, considering the cost in lives and treasure, Rice said, "Absolutely."

Rice then offered a parallel between critics of the administration's Iraq policies and "people who thought it was a mistake to fight the Civil War (in this country) to its end and to insist that the emancipation of slaves would hold."

"I'm sure that there were people who said, "why don't we get out of this now, take a peace with the South, but leave the South with slaves."

"Just because things are difficult, it does't mean that they are wrong or that you turn back," Rice told the magazine, which has a large audience among African-Americans.

David Frum reports that Mitt Romney has done as much as one of the individual United States can do in a foreign policy matter without the support of the federal government.

Governor Mitt Romney today ordered all Massachusetts state government agencies to decline support, if asked, for former Iranian President Mohammed Khatami’s September 10 visit to the Boston area, where he is scheduled to speak at Harvard University.

“State taxpayers should not be providing special treatment to an individual who supports violent jihad and the destruction of Israel,” said Romney.

Romney’s action means that Khatami will be denied an official police escort and other VIP treatment when he is in town. The federal government provides security through the U.S. State Department.

Romney criticized Harvard for honoring Khatami by inviting him to speak, calling it “a disgrace to the memory of all Americans who have lost their lives at the hands of extremists, especially on the eve of the five-year anniversary of 9/11.”

Said Romney: “The U.S. State Department listed Khatami’s Iran as the number one state sponsor of terrorism. Within his own country, Khatami oversaw the torture and murder of dissidents who spoke out for freedom and democracy. For him to lecture Americans about tolerance and violence is propaganda, pure and simple.”

I strongly suggest this piece by Washington Post Editorial Page as "Recommended Reading".

I strongly suggest this piece by Wall Street Journal: Review & Outlook as "Recommended Reading".

Ann Coulter is now officially on my shit list.

I know there are fans of Ms. Coulter among the best and brightest in coservative circles, including some who have commented (and more) on this blog. I've let most good things said about her pass by observing 11th Commandment, and other times I've simply stated my preference for other blondes.

But now she's jumped the shark. Please, Ann, shut up already.

LauraW at MoronBlog (aka AoSHQ)