Stubble is the best. You don't look like a wannabe mountain man, nor like a little kid. You're a grown man! You've got shit to do, things to see. You've got no time to shave all the time. Stubble means action! But stubble also means you take the time to do it right. Stubble means you aren't some lazy wastrel waiting for life to happen.
Stubble means awesome.
Paid for by the Bic Association of America.
17.10.06
6.6.06
2.6.06
D-Day
Be seated.
Men, this stuff that Eve-O alts sling around about goons wanting out of this war, not wanting to fight, is a crock of bullshit. Goons love to fight, traditionally. All real Goons love the pew and fofo of battle.
You are here today for three reasons. First, because you are here to defend your homes and your mining alts. Second, you are here for your own self respect, because you do not want to play World of Warcraft. Third, you are here because you are real men and all real men like to fight. When you, here, every one of you, were kids, you all admired the champion marble player, the Vagabond pilots, the toughest boxer, Lowtax, and the All-American football players. Goons love crokite. Goons will not tolerate dark ochre. Goons despise carebears. Goons play to win and make isk all of the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who was podded and laughed. That's why Goons have never lost nor will ever lose a war we bother to travel to; for the very idea of losing crokite is hateful to a Goon.
You are not all going to die. Only the frigates right here today would be podded in a major battle. Losing implants must not be feared. Death, in time, comes to all men. Yes, every man is scared in his first battle. He probably can't even find his warp disruptor hotkey. If he says he's not afraid, he's a liar. Some men are cowards but they fight the same as the brave men or they get scrammed and webbed watching men fight who are just as scared as they are. The real hero is the Rifter who fights even though he is scared. Some men get over their fright in a minute under fire. For some, it takes an hour. For some, it takes days. But a real man will never let his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate fofo.
Battle is the most magnificent competition in which a human being can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base. Goons pride themselves on being Bee Men and they ARE Bee Men. Remember that the enemy is just as frightened as you are, and probably more so. They are faggots.
All through your Army careers, you men have bitched about what you call "mandatory pvp ops where nothing happens." That, like everything else in this Army, has a definite purpose. That purpose is alertness. Alertness must be bred into every soldier. I don't give a fuck for a man who's not always on his toes. You men are veterans or you wouldn't be here. You are ready for what's to come. A man must be alert at all times if he expects to stay alive. If you're not alert, sometime, a German son-of-an-asshole-bitch is going to wake up at four am so he can blow up your POS with his dread! There are four hundred neatly marked cargo cans somewhere in Syndicate, all because Swaffer is retarded. But they are Axis of Faggotry cans, because we camped them in before they did it.
A Fleet is a team. It lives, sleeps, eats, and fights as a team. This individual heroic stuff is pure horse shit. The bilious bastards who write that kind of stuff for the Eve-O forums don't know any more about real fighting under fire than they know about fucking! We have the finest forum, the finest zeitgeist, the best spirit, and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity those poor sons-of-bitches we're going up against. By God, I do.
My men don't surrender, and I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command warping out unless he's into structure. Even if you're tackled, you can still fight back. That's not just bull shit either. The kind of man that I want in my command is just like Cefte, who, with an interceptor against his chest, jerked off his helmet, jammed the enemy's blasters with one hand, and busted the hell out of the Kraut with his small autocannon. Then he looted the can and went out and killed another inteceptor before they knew what the hell was coming off. And, all of that time, this man had a bullet through a lung. There was a real man!
All of the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters, either. Every single man in this Fleet plays a vital role. Don't ever let up. Don't ever think that your job is unimportant. Every man has a job to do and he must do it. Every man is a vital link in the great chain. What if every mining op hauler suddenly decided that he didn't like the whine of those shells overhead, turned yellow, and jumped headlong into a safespot? The cowardly bastard could say, 'Hell, they won't miss me, just one bee in thousands.' But, what if every man thought that way? Where in the hell would we be now? What would our Region, our loved ones, our homes, even the world, be like? No, Goddamnit, Goons don't think like that. Every man does his job. Every man serves the whole. Every department, every unit, is important in the vast scheme of this war. The production men are needed to supply the guns and machinery of war to keep us rolling. The freighter is needed to bring up food and clothes because where we are going there isn't a hell of a lot to steal. Every last man with a light blue portrait has a job to do, even the one who accidentally warps ahead of the gang.
Each man must not think only of himself, but also of his buddy fighting beside him. We don't want yellow cowards in this Army. They should be killed off like Serpentis rats. If not, they will go home after this war and breed more mining alts. The pvpers will breed more pvpers. Kill off the Goddamned cowards and we will have a nation of pvpers. One of the bravest men that I ever saw was a fellow setting up a covops warp-in point in the midst of a furious fire fight in Cloud Ring. I stopped and asked what the hell he was doing up there at a time like that. He answered, 'getting 15km behind the enemy, sir.' I asked, 'Isn't that a little unhealthy right about now?' He answered, 'Yes Sir, but the Goddamned warp has to be fixed.' I asked, 'Don't those HACs strafing the gate bother you?' And he answered, 'No, Sir, but you sure as hell do!' Then he closed the convo. Now, there was a real man. A real soldier. There was a man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty might appear at the time, no matter how great the markup on covops cloaks.
And you should have seen those miners and haulers warping to S-3 during Kommunist Weekend. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they rolled over those son-of-a-bitching roads, never stopping, never faltering from their course, with shells bursting all around them all of the time. We got through on good old Miner IIs.
Many of those men drove for over forty consecutive hours. These men weren't combat men, but they were soldiers with a job to do. They did it, and in one hell of a way they did it. They were part of a team. Without team effort, without them, the fight would have been lost. All of the links in the chain pulled together and the chain became unbreakable.
Don't forget, you men don't know that I'm here. No mention of that fact is to be made in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell happened to me. I'm not supposed to be commanding this Army. I'm not even supposed to be here in Goonfleet. I was sponsored in. Let the first bastards to find out be the Goddamned Germans. Someday I want to see them raise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl, 'Jesus Christ, it's the Goddamned Goonfleet again and that son-of-a-fucking-bitch Sesfan.' We want to get the hell over there." The quicker we clean up this Goddamned mess, the quicker we can take a little jaunt against the purple pissing BoB and clean out their nest, too. Before the Goddamned dreads get all of the credit.
Sure, we want to mine crok. We want this war over with. The quickest way to get it over with is to go get the bastards who started it. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we can go home. The shortest way home is through Outer Ring and Cloud Ring. And when we get to their belts, killing their doods, I am personally going to pod that paper hanging son-of-a-bitch CHON. Just like I'd pod a snake!
When a man is lying in a safespot, if he just stays there all day, a German will probe him out eventually. The hell with that idea. The hell with taking it. My men don't log off in safespots. I don't want them to. Logging off like SK Rooster only slows up an offensive. Keep moving. And don't give the enemy time to log off either. Make sure you get points. We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by fighting and by showing the Germans that we've got more guts than they have; or ever will have. We're not going to just shoot the sons-of-bitches, we're going to rip out their living Goddamned guts and use them to grease the barrels of our guns. We're going to murder those lousy Hun cock suckers by the bushel-fucking-basket.
War is a bloody, killing business. You've got to blow up their tech 2 equipment, or they will blow up yours. Rip them up the belly. Shoot them in the guts. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt off your face and realize that instead of dirt it's the blood and guts of what once was your best friend beside you, you'll know what to do!
I don't want to get any private convos saying, 'I am holding my position.' We are not holding a Goddamned thing. Let the Germans do that. We are advancing constantly and we are not interested in holding onto anything, except the enemy's balls. We are going to twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all of the time. Our basic plan of operation is to advance and to keep on advancing regardless of whether we have to go over, under, or through the enemy. We are going to go through him like Tempests through a Hulk; like shit through a tin horn!
From time to time there will be some complaints that we are pushing our newbies too hard. I don't give a good Goddamn about such complaints. I believe in the old and sound rule that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder WE push, the more Germans we will kill. The more Germans we kill, the fewer of our bees will be killed. Pushing means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that.
There is one great thing that you men will all be able to say after this war is over and you are home once again. You may be thankful that twenty months from now when you are sitting in GFGBS with your adopted newbie on your knee and he asks you what you did in the great Rings War, you WON'T have to cough, shift him to the other knee and say, 'Well, your Mentor mined crok for four hours a day and safespotted when hostiles entered system.' No, Sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say, 'Son, your Granddaddy rode with the Great Goonfleet and a Son-of-a- Goddamned-Bitch named Sesfan Qu'Lah!'
That is all.
Men, this stuff that Eve-O alts sling around about goons wanting out of this war, not wanting to fight, is a crock of bullshit. Goons love to fight, traditionally. All real Goons love the pew and fofo of battle.
You are here today for three reasons. First, because you are here to defend your homes and your mining alts. Second, you are here for your own self respect, because you do not want to play World of Warcraft. Third, you are here because you are real men and all real men like to fight. When you, here, every one of you, were kids, you all admired the champion marble player, the Vagabond pilots, the toughest boxer, Lowtax, and the All-American football players. Goons love crokite. Goons will not tolerate dark ochre. Goons despise carebears. Goons play to win and make isk all of the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who was podded and laughed. That's why Goons have never lost nor will ever lose a war we bother to travel to; for the very idea of losing crokite is hateful to a Goon.
You are not all going to die. Only the frigates right here today would be podded in a major battle. Losing implants must not be feared. Death, in time, comes to all men. Yes, every man is scared in his first battle. He probably can't even find his warp disruptor hotkey. If he says he's not afraid, he's a liar. Some men are cowards but they fight the same as the brave men or they get scrammed and webbed watching men fight who are just as scared as they are. The real hero is the Rifter who fights even though he is scared. Some men get over their fright in a minute under fire. For some, it takes an hour. For some, it takes days. But a real man will never let his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate fofo.
Battle is the most magnificent competition in which a human being can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base. Goons pride themselves on being Bee Men and they ARE Bee Men. Remember that the enemy is just as frightened as you are, and probably more so. They are faggots.
All through your Army careers, you men have bitched about what you call "mandatory pvp ops where nothing happens." That, like everything else in this Army, has a definite purpose. That purpose is alertness. Alertness must be bred into every soldier. I don't give a fuck for a man who's not always on his toes. You men are veterans or you wouldn't be here. You are ready for what's to come. A man must be alert at all times if he expects to stay alive. If you're not alert, sometime, a German son-of-an-asshole-bitch is going to wake up at four am so he can blow up your POS with his dread! There are four hundred neatly marked cargo cans somewhere in Syndicate, all because Swaffer is retarded. But they are Axis of Faggotry cans, because we camped them in before they did it.
A Fleet is a team. It lives, sleeps, eats, and fights as a team. This individual heroic stuff is pure horse shit. The bilious bastards who write that kind of stuff for the Eve-O forums don't know any more about real fighting under fire than they know about fucking! We have the finest forum, the finest zeitgeist, the best spirit, and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity those poor sons-of-bitches we're going up against. By God, I do.
My men don't surrender, and I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command warping out unless he's into structure. Even if you're tackled, you can still fight back. That's not just bull shit either. The kind of man that I want in my command is just like Cefte, who, with an interceptor against his chest, jerked off his helmet, jammed the enemy's blasters with one hand, and busted the hell out of the Kraut with his small autocannon. Then he looted the can and went out and killed another inteceptor before they knew what the hell was coming off. And, all of that time, this man had a bullet through a lung. There was a real man!
All of the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters, either. Every single man in this Fleet plays a vital role. Don't ever let up. Don't ever think that your job is unimportant. Every man has a job to do and he must do it. Every man is a vital link in the great chain. What if every mining op hauler suddenly decided that he didn't like the whine of those shells overhead, turned yellow, and jumped headlong into a safespot? The cowardly bastard could say, 'Hell, they won't miss me, just one bee in thousands.' But, what if every man thought that way? Where in the hell would we be now? What would our Region, our loved ones, our homes, even the world, be like? No, Goddamnit, Goons don't think like that. Every man does his job. Every man serves the whole. Every department, every unit, is important in the vast scheme of this war. The production men are needed to supply the guns and machinery of war to keep us rolling. The freighter is needed to bring up food and clothes because where we are going there isn't a hell of a lot to steal. Every last man with a light blue portrait has a job to do, even the one who accidentally warps ahead of the gang.
Each man must not think only of himself, but also of his buddy fighting beside him. We don't want yellow cowards in this Army. They should be killed off like Serpentis rats. If not, they will go home after this war and breed more mining alts. The pvpers will breed more pvpers. Kill off the Goddamned cowards and we will have a nation of pvpers. One of the bravest men that I ever saw was a fellow setting up a covops warp-in point in the midst of a furious fire fight in Cloud Ring. I stopped and asked what the hell he was doing up there at a time like that. He answered, 'getting 15km behind the enemy, sir.' I asked, 'Isn't that a little unhealthy right about now?' He answered, 'Yes Sir, but the Goddamned warp has to be fixed.' I asked, 'Don't those HACs strafing the gate bother you?' And he answered, 'No, Sir, but you sure as hell do!' Then he closed the convo. Now, there was a real man. A real soldier. There was a man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty might appear at the time, no matter how great the markup on covops cloaks.
And you should have seen those miners and haulers warping to S-3 during Kommunist Weekend. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they rolled over those son-of-a-bitching roads, never stopping, never faltering from their course, with shells bursting all around them all of the time. We got through on good old Miner IIs.
Many of those men drove for over forty consecutive hours. These men weren't combat men, but they were soldiers with a job to do. They did it, and in one hell of a way they did it. They were part of a team. Without team effort, without them, the fight would have been lost. All of the links in the chain pulled together and the chain became unbreakable.
Don't forget, you men don't know that I'm here. No mention of that fact is to be made in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell happened to me. I'm not supposed to be commanding this Army. I'm not even supposed to be here in Goonfleet. I was sponsored in. Let the first bastards to find out be the Goddamned Germans. Someday I want to see them raise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl, 'Jesus Christ, it's the Goddamned Goonfleet again and that son-of-a-fucking-bitch Sesfan.' We want to get the hell over there." The quicker we clean up this Goddamned mess, the quicker we can take a little jaunt against the purple pissing BoB and clean out their nest, too. Before the Goddamned dreads get all of the credit.
Sure, we want to mine crok. We want this war over with. The quickest way to get it over with is to go get the bastards who started it. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we can go home. The shortest way home is through Outer Ring and Cloud Ring. And when we get to their belts, killing their doods, I am personally going to pod that paper hanging son-of-a-bitch CHON. Just like I'd pod a snake!
When a man is lying in a safespot, if he just stays there all day, a German will probe him out eventually. The hell with that idea. The hell with taking it. My men don't log off in safespots. I don't want them to. Logging off like SK Rooster only slows up an offensive. Keep moving. And don't give the enemy time to log off either. Make sure you get points. We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by fighting and by showing the Germans that we've got more guts than they have; or ever will have. We're not going to just shoot the sons-of-bitches, we're going to rip out their living Goddamned guts and use them to grease the barrels of our guns. We're going to murder those lousy Hun cock suckers by the bushel-fucking-basket.
War is a bloody, killing business. You've got to blow up their tech 2 equipment, or they will blow up yours. Rip them up the belly. Shoot them in the guts. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt off your face and realize that instead of dirt it's the blood and guts of what once was your best friend beside you, you'll know what to do!
I don't want to get any private convos saying, 'I am holding my position.' We are not holding a Goddamned thing. Let the Germans do that. We are advancing constantly and we are not interested in holding onto anything, except the enemy's balls. We are going to twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all of the time. Our basic plan of operation is to advance and to keep on advancing regardless of whether we have to go over, under, or through the enemy. We are going to go through him like Tempests through a Hulk; like shit through a tin horn!
From time to time there will be some complaints that we are pushing our newbies too hard. I don't give a good Goddamn about such complaints. I believe in the old and sound rule that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder WE push, the more Germans we will kill. The more Germans we kill, the fewer of our bees will be killed. Pushing means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that.
There is one great thing that you men will all be able to say after this war is over and you are home once again. You may be thankful that twenty months from now when you are sitting in GFGBS with your adopted newbie on your knee and he asks you what you did in the great Rings War, you WON'T have to cough, shift him to the other knee and say, 'Well, your Mentor mined crok for four hours a day and safespotted when hostiles entered system.' No, Sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say, 'Son, your Granddaddy rode with the Great Goonfleet and a Son-of-a- Goddamned-Bitch named Sesfan Qu'Lah!'
That is all.
20.4.06
most severe crisis
I meant to update this yesterday, but I never got around to it. First, check out the link to discover the joys of civil disobediance. Ah fun. Also, thanks to nerdshit.com, a bit about yesterday...
It was 63 years ago today that Albert Hofmann first deliberately ingested 250mcg of LSD-25. After beginning to feel the effects of the chemical, Dr. Hofmann and his assistant rode their bicycles to his house.
Here’s a short excerpt from “LSD: My Problem Child” in which Dr. Hofmann describes his experience:
In celebration of this day, psychonauts across the globe will be taking LSD and riding their bicycles (hopefully in a safe spot).
4/19/43 16:20: 0.5 cc of 1/2 promil aqueous solution of diethylamide tartrate orally = 0.25 mg tartrate. Taken diluted with about 10 cc water. Tasteless.17:00: Beginning dizziness, feeling of anxiety, visual distortions, symptoms of paralysis, desire to laugh.
Supplement of 4/21: Home by bicycle.
From 18:00- ca. 20:00 most severe crisis.
Here the notes in my laboratory journal cease. I was able to write the last words only with great effort. By now it was already clear to me that LSD had been the cause of the remarkable experience of the previous Friday, for the altered perceptions were of the same type as before, only much more intense. I had to struggle to speak intelligibly. I asked my laboratory assistant, who was informed of the self-experiment, to escort me home. We went by bicycle, no automobile being available because of wartime restrictions on their use. On the way home, my condition began to assume threatening forms. Everything in my field of vision wavered and was distorted as if seen in a curved mirror. I also had the sensation of being unable to move from the spot. Nevertheless, my assistant later told me that we had traveled very rapidly. Finally, we arrived at home safe and sound, and I was just barely capable of asking my companion to summon our family doctor and request milk from the neighbors.
7.4.06
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
I was reading Debate and Discussion and came upon a brilliant bit of writing that I wanted to repost. If you've ever been interested in counter-culture, I'm sure you'll find this interesting:
... Samuel Huntington's work for the 1975 Trilateral commission ... a good critique of what the counter culture did to American society. In a nutshell the hippies and yippies adopted a Diogenes view on society. That is the entire thing was corrupt, so they refused to be part of it. This rebellion was not understood by all, and it was hijacked by marketing firms later on and turned into pop culture. As my professors have said, they sold their VWs and cut their hair when all their old classmates who originally laughed at them in '66 now came asking them for drugs.
Not only were these ideas abandoned, but for the majority of people they never understood what the culture was about to begin with. As some have put it, the free love and drugs were simply a new tool men had used to get what they wanted from women - sex. The people who got it probably had a same SLC Punk realization about the other members who claimed to be part of the movement and went insane or died on drugs - they were the lucky ones to see what the movements did turn into. The Democratic party failed 30 years ago once hippies started cutting their hair and championing a million different causes.
In the end the institutional damage was never recovered. Respect for authority in any form was shattered, which left a generation disinterested in politics or the possiblities. In one way this left the system ripe for the takeover of conservative republicans who wanted to weaken institutions, if not tear them down to begin with.
Danno is correct about what hippies do now. There are no leaders, no real movement, no ideals. It seems to be about drugs, the environment, and some misguided effort to teach multiculturalism everywhere which neither respects cultures or offers a workable way to live. I wouldn't characterize the hippies/counter culture as really having an effect on American politics. The most effect they had was the Yippies which made a mess of the DNC in 68. I would like to think that had Robert Kennedy been elected he would've brought the counter culture back into mainstream society and we wouldn't have Eric Cartman on South Park showing modern day hippies such contempt.
... Samuel Huntington's work for the 1975 Trilateral commission ... a good critique of what the counter culture did to American society. In a nutshell the hippies and yippies adopted a Diogenes view on society. That is the entire thing was corrupt, so they refused to be part of it. This rebellion was not understood by all, and it was hijacked by marketing firms later on and turned into pop culture. As my professors have said, they sold their VWs and cut their hair when all their old classmates who originally laughed at them in '66 now came asking them for drugs.
Not only were these ideas abandoned, but for the majority of people they never understood what the culture was about to begin with. As some have put it, the free love and drugs were simply a new tool men had used to get what they wanted from women - sex. The people who got it probably had a same SLC Punk realization about the other members who claimed to be part of the movement and went insane or died on drugs - they were the lucky ones to see what the movements did turn into. The Democratic party failed 30 years ago once hippies started cutting their hair and championing a million different causes.
In the end the institutional damage was never recovered. Respect for authority in any form was shattered, which left a generation disinterested in politics or the possiblities. In one way this left the system ripe for the takeover of conservative republicans who wanted to weaken institutions, if not tear them down to begin with.
Danno is correct about what hippies do now. There are no leaders, no real movement, no ideals. It seems to be about drugs, the environment, and some misguided effort to teach multiculturalism everywhere which neither respects cultures or offers a workable way to live. I wouldn't characterize the hippies/counter culture as really having an effect on American politics. The most effect they had was the Yippies which made a mess of the DNC in 68. I would like to think that had Robert Kennedy been elected he would've brought the counter culture back into mainstream society and we wouldn't have Eric Cartman on South Park showing modern day hippies such contempt.
21.3.06
theee.lovelyness = 10;
// Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
// by William Shakespeare
// ported to ActionScript 2.0 by Satori Canton
//
// Original poem can be viewed at:
// http://plagiarist.com/poetry/915/
// by William Shakespeare
// ported to ActionScript 2.0 by Satori Canton
//
// Original poem can be viewed at:
// http://plagiarist.com/poetry/915/
var summer:Object = {};
var thee:Object = {};
summer.name = "Summer Day";
thee.name = "Thee";
summer.lovelyness = 9;
thee.lovelyness = 10;
summer.temperature = 98;
thee.temperature = 98.6;
summer.lease = new Date(2006, 7, 31).getTime() - new Date(2006, 5, 1).getTime();
thee.lease = new Date(2042, 6, 12).getTime() - new Date(1970, 8, 25).getTime();
summer.complexion = 0xFFCC33;
thee.complexion = 0xFFCCCC;
16.3.06
null signal
Q Does the President know that he's in violation of international law when he advocates preemptive war? The U.N. Charter, Geneva, Nuremberg. We violate international law when we advocate attacking a country that did not attack us.
MR. McCLELLAN: Helen, I would just disagree with your assessment. First of all, preemption is a longstanding principle of American foreign --
Q It's not a long-standing principle with us. It's your principle.
MR. McCLELLAN: Have you asked your question?
Q It's a violation of international law.
MR. McCLELLAN: First of all, let me back up, preemption is a longstanding principle of American foreign policy. It is also part --
Q It's never been.
MR. McCLELLAN: It is also part of an inherent right to self-defense. But what we seek to do is to address issues diplomatically by working with our friends and allies, and working with regional partners. That's what we're doing when it comes to the threat posed by Iran pursuing nuclear weapons. That's what we're doing when it comes to resolving the nuclear issue with North Korea. So we seek diplomatic solutions to confront threats.
And it's important what September 11th taught us --
Q The heavy emphasis of your paper today is war and preemptive war.
MR. McCLELLAN: Can I finish responding to your question, because I think it's important to answer your question. It's a good question and it's a fair question. But first of all, are we supposed to wait until a threat fully materializes and then respond? September 11th --
Q Under international law you have to be attacked first.
MR. McCLELLAN: Helen, you're not letting me respond to your question. You have the opportunity to ask your question, and I would like to be able to provide a response so that the American people can hear what our view is. This is not new in terms of our foreign policy. This has been a longstanding principle, the question that you bring up. But again, I'll put the question back to you. Are we supposed to wait until a threat fully materializes before we respond --
Q You had no threat from Iraq.
MR. McCLELLAN: September 11th taught us --
Q That was not a threat from Iraq.
MR. McCLELLAN: Helen, I would just disagree with your assessment. First of all, preemption is a longstanding principle of American foreign --
Q It's not a long-standing principle with us. It's your principle.
MR. McCLELLAN: Have you asked your question?
Q It's a violation of international law.
MR. McCLELLAN: First of all, let me back up, preemption is a longstanding principle of American foreign policy. It is also part --
Q It's never been.
MR. McCLELLAN: It is also part of an inherent right to self-defense. But what we seek to do is to address issues diplomatically by working with our friends and allies, and working with regional partners. That's what we're doing when it comes to the threat posed by Iran pursuing nuclear weapons. That's what we're doing when it comes to resolving the nuclear issue with North Korea. So we seek diplomatic solutions to confront threats.
And it's important what September 11th taught us --
Q The heavy emphasis of your paper today is war and preemptive war.
MR. McCLELLAN: Can I finish responding to your question, because I think it's important to answer your question. It's a good question and it's a fair question. But first of all, are we supposed to wait until a threat fully materializes and then respond? September 11th --
Q Under international law you have to be attacked first.
MR. McCLELLAN: Helen, you're not letting me respond to your question. You have the opportunity to ask your question, and I would like to be able to provide a response so that the American people can hear what our view is. This is not new in terms of our foreign policy. This has been a longstanding principle, the question that you bring up. But again, I'll put the question back to you. Are we supposed to wait until a threat fully materializes before we respond --
Q You had no threat from Iraq.
MR. McCLELLAN: September 11th taught us --
Q That was not a threat from Iraq.
20.2.06
BATMAN!!
... was the callsign of our short platoon. Instead of writing/reading page after page for my major, I was out in Adair getting cold and bruising my knees. To avoid getting too livejournalish, I just want to point out how important it is to expose yourself to opinions dichotomous to your own.
Oh, and knee-pads are yay.
Oh, and knee-pads are yay.
9.2.06
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