This is my first post in a couple of weeks, which is disgracefully slack (many apologies to anyone who visits daily - and I see there are a couple - and leaves disappointed), but it has been a busy summer.
So back to blogging with a bang, then, or maybe just a quiet pfft depending on whether you are using a silencer. I've been mildly intrigued by all these confidential American military reports that have appeared on WikiLeaks. It seems to have created a bit of an outrage, with the top brass saying that Julian Assange, the WikiLeaks owner with the Warhole hair, has the blood of Afghans on his hands for revealing the names of informers and conspirators.
Not as much Afghan blood on his hands as the misfiring US troops, Assange's defenders may reply, but the White House has a point that there is a certain lack of morality and concern for consequences behind the publication of the leaked documents.
Robert Gibbs, President Obama's press secretary, pleaded with Assange today to stop, but that is hardly likely given that Gibbs, an owlish bumbling fellow, is as much of a threat as a goldfish. So why doesn't the White House just, you know, have Assange whacked?
These leaked documents reveal that there is a special ops assassination squad going round bumping off the Taleban rather than arresting them for trial, which is cool (sorry, I mean disgraceful). Why not put a couple of them on Assange detail?
Surely they know how: pull up in a car alongside him, invite him to go for a ride out to New Jersey or some godforsaken place and then take care of him. Make it look like an accident, of course. Astounding how many people accidentally garotte themselves with cheesewire when buying shoes.
Honestly, if you can't bump off people that are being irritating, what is the point of having a CIA? What is the point, indeed, of being President?
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