Torture - the band - and stuff

As I read the news what strikes me is that the torturers wanted some kind of ass covering and so there was debate by the wise folks over when does dropping insects into a small confined space containing a prisoner – who had been in that space for a while and was per the psychological reports terrified of bugs torture – the grim comedy came where the ass covering operative wanted to know if it was really torture if he didn’t use insects that could sting someone. (Which I guess he thought would be torture – Wasp torture – Grasshopper not torture)

It’s just alas another example of how badly this country needs to get it’s moral compass re-magnetized.

And as the time winds on – we learn more unspeakable ness – yesterday it was reveled that one prisoner at gitmo was water boarded 183 times in a month– and you had to think - for what what could possibly come out of the 150th water boarding that they didn’t get in the 75th or ever the 40th time.

And now today comes the sickening answer - the powers that be – during the lead up to the invasion of Iraq needed reasons other than “we want to do it” (and as a side note I think in the end the horrible truth will come out that that was they only reason we invaded Iraq was that they wanted to no other plan – not even an idea just desire to invade.) So in order to get ‘confessions’ they did what people wanting the right confessions have done for thousands of years – they tortured their captives until they got them. I can only assume that these confessions were the reason that various administration officials during the lead up the war continued to affirm and Iraq Al Queda connection – they had the confessions. They would never tell how they obtained the confessions – national security and what not but rest assured they had the confessions.

They tortured people to provide them with an excuse to go to war with the resulting loss of some 4,000 American troops and god knows how many hundreds of thousands of Iraqis.

As I read what I wrote it feels like my soul wants to throw up.

So for the nonce and we’ll just wait for the rest of the shoes to fall.

Which if the suicide of the CFO of Freddie Mac is any indication there are more shoes.

On a good note – band got back in the studio for a rehearsal and by the end we didn’t entirely suck – unlike the sound we got earlier. Also S-Dog couldn’t make it (he was – well I’d make up something embarrassing but why should I do that?”) So the sound suffered – Dog we miss you.

I’ve noticed here and there on face book, my space the net itself and the world calls to use these tough economic times as an “opportunity to grow “ or some such Pollyanna like gibberish. Granted you can discover something about yourself in tough times – I for example tend to whimper a lot – but let’s not pretend that it’s a good thing. Please.

And another thing this is not some kind of natural disaster like a hurricane where you just have to accept that it happened and then move on – the current state of the economy is the direct result of the actions taken by ideological bound men in high places along with their fellow travelers and courtiers. The economy is not merely a bit sick – it snorted coke for about 30 years and has now passed out naked in a ditch. Unless some people go to jail and the financial institutions are neutered to the point where they can’t do the kind of damage they did – we’re just going to feeding the addict chicken soup until he gets on his feet and calls for his dealer. That will unfortunately take more than personal change.

And I’ve never been fond of that way of thinking anyway. I remember – maybe the only time I was sharp tongued at the moment was when I was told I was being let go by the Publishing company where I had worked for some 13 years – there was some kind of end of service agreement I had to sign – which I did other wise no severance – and after I signed it the HR person said

“You might feel bad now but for some this sort of thing is the first step to a new career.”

And I shot back

“And for some, it’s the first step to the refrigerator carton over the subway grate:

There wasn’t a lot of talk after that.

Peace Love S-Dog we miss you!