Last weekend I enjoyed , for the umpteenth time, Ken Burn's The Civil War on PBS. Fine television, that. But what was most striking was the similarity between Bush's position of today and that of Lincoln in 1864. I've heard mention of this before in some article or blog post, but Burn's actual text was so "spot on" in relation to today's circumstances that I'm kind of surprised that PBS didn't edit it. 

     With an election upcoming later in the year, Lincoln was the standard bearer of an increasingly unpopular war. As a result his approval rating (such a modern term, no?) was near to bottoming out. From his most belligerent critics he earned the derisive epithet "The Original Ape" (kinda like Chimpy Mcbushitler, eh?). He faced a Democrat congress who "wanted out of the war at any cost" and hostility within his own party. Bogged down on two fronts (Atlanta and Petersburg), the war seemed a hopeless waste of lives and resources after four long years. His Democrat opponent in the election would be none other than George McClellan, the petulant, young general who Lincoln had had to fire twice as commander of the Army of the Potomac when he proved unequal to the task. Lincoln's prospects, and those of  "the last best hope for mankind" were bleak indeed.  Kind of eerie.  But, when Sherman took Atlanta that summer Lincoln's reelection was assured. The Union would be preserved.

      The lesson here, I suppose, is for conservatives not to lose heart in the face of a Democrat majority hellbent of defeat, an electorate impatient with the progress of the war, and the fate, perhaps, of the "last, best hope for mankind" again hanging in the balance. You never know when Sherman might take Atlanta.         

  

  Fifty years ago today on May 24, 1957 my uncle Hugh Jackson McLaurin took off from McCord AFB in Washington state for a routine training flight in a F-102a. Just a few minutes into the flight the aircraft began to experience power loss. Ejecting from the aircraft was the obvious option; however, at the time he was over a populated section of the base and couldn't be assured that the plane would not crash into a nearby parade ground occupied by a company of US Army soldiers.  Rather than risk harm to them he stayed with the plane piloting it to an unpopulated area. By the time he "punched out" there was insufficient altitude for his chute to deploy and he was killed. He was 33. 
    Soldiers on the parade ground that day requested that they man the honor guard at his funeral. A few months later he was awarded a posthumous Distinguished Flying Cross for his selfless actions that day.
    His fascination with aviation can be traced, according to his brother, to an afternoon in the 1930s. They were working the fields of the family's North Carolina farm when several squadrons of planes from Myrtle Beach AFB flew over while evacuating from the path of a hurricane. After that he knew he wanted to fly and at 19 he joined the Army Air Corps in 1943. He never saw action in WWII but saw plenty in Korea where he was awarded his first DFC for extraordinary skill in bringing home an aircraft significantly disabled in combat. 



     Aviation was his life, and I recently found out that he published several articles on the topic. One, published in the March, 1951 edition of Flying, entitled 13,100 mph -Strait Up described training in a pressure chamber for high altitude flight. 


I never had the pleasure of knowing Uncle Hugh. All this happened three years before my birth, but I was named after him, and this has been a point of pride for me all my life. I'm very proud to be descended from such men, and I can only hope that if faced with a similar decision I'd show as much valor. 










    

 Liberal Dictionary

Pronunciation: 'chI(-&)ld
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural chil·dren /'chil-dr&n, -d&rn/
Usage: often attributive
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English cild; akin to Gothic kilthei womb, and perhaps to Sanskrit jathara belly
1 a : A person over the age of 18 who has volunteered for military service in order to defend his or her country    and who is now in service in Iraq.

       Yep, how many times have we heard liberals refer to the men and women of our armed forces as children. As in "those children are being sacrificed for the sake of Haliburton profits".  This is as demeaning as it is inaccurate. To hear this language you'd think we were rounding up kids from orphanages to send over as cannon fodder. 

      For examples of actual children in combat on must look to the likes of Al-Qaeda. There was a recent report of parents of a mentally retarded 13yr old who sold him to Al-Qaeda in order that he carry out a suicide bombing and, therefore, be of some service to Allah. Makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, doesn't it?
   
     Meanwhile, according to the libs,  what rational people understand to be a child in it's mother's womb is to them merely an inanimate glob of protoplasm. And not until this glob makes it's way out of the birth canal and takes a breath does it gain status as a human child. At that point, presumably, liberals would forcefully defend this child from being sent into combat. However, prior to that a lib would have no problem with this glob having it's brains vacuumed out in order not to inconvenience the mother. Go figure.

              

 

Dear Mom,

Wow! Great news about the election! We’re so looking forward to coming home to a liberated America.

There was jubilation in the streets throughout Saskatchewan to be sure. Moonbeam closed the new age book store and I took the day off from the hydroponic farm to drive into town and celebrate. And celebrate we did! There were the usual burnings of the American flag and Bush in effigy, of course. The library had children’s programs and a Noam Chomsky reading. Everywhere was a festive atmosphere. MB and I splurged and both had colonics to symbolize the cleansing of the Republican evil from the American gut..

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know we got the plane tickets you sent, and not a moment too soon as it turns out. Moonbeam slipped a disc attempting a particularly ambitious Yoga pose 19 months ago, and we’re still waiting to get an MRI. We’ve been seeing a local shaman in the meantime, but she never seems to get any better. But, hey, the wait is the least we can do to ensure universal healthcare, but see if you can get her an appointment anyway.

Uncle Steve sends his love, but, plead as we might, we weren’t able to convince him to come home with us. He’s still convinced that “that basta*d Nixon” will have him arrested at the border. We tried to convince him that Nixon was dead and that 40 yrs was long enough to wait, but he just starts mumbling and hides under the Subaru.

So, I guess we’ll be seeing you next week. My mouth is watering in anticipation of one of your tofu and goat cheese casseroles. Hug Dad for us,

Love, Woody