Support our troops [a]

It used to be that whenever you wanted to win an argument in political discourse, you just had to bring up Nazi Germany. It was the perfect catch-all; compare something to Naziism and it was instantly bad, even if you got the analogy and/or history wrong. So long reductio ad hitlerum, since 2003 the motivation for everything you see and read and hear is based on what is most supportive of our troops.

Sure, it's been an annoyance since day one. If you wanted to be patriotic and non-partisan, you just needed a 'Support Our Troops' emblem. It showed you didn't want Americans to die, but were too busy or stupid to deal with the issues that put them in harm's way.

Almost four years later, after the bumper stickers have faded and the slogans have become a kneejerk response to any discussion of politics at home and abroad, the ineffect of 'supporting our troops' has become lucid. The recent congressional discussions of a devastating and nonbinding resolution to reject the deployment of 20,000 more soldiers has shown that:

• Bringing our boys home will support the troops by removing them from the battlefield.
  
• Sending reinforcements will support the troops by increasing security in Iraq.

Wow, awesome, anything we do short of dumping our petroleum reserves into the Hudson Bay is in support of our troops. That's reassuring. I understand that 'Support Our Troops' is so hot right now, but maybe we'll one day realize that the maxim is:

1. Stale
2. Without argumentative consequence

But it's nice to know our soldiers have been logically separated from the intent to go to war. I recall a few decades ago the kids who were impressed into service were jeered and spat on for their unwilling participation in an unpopular war. But in this unpopular war, they're recognized as mere agents of a greater will. As it should be, people far above them call the shots.

We support our tools (ignore the negative connotation). Tools used by an administration for - whatever goal our involvement in Iraq currently is. And tools used by politicians and car bumpers to distinguish themselves as patriots.

The Ministry of Peace [i]

Vanity Fair is running an article about the perverse and dichotomous laissez-faire economics dealing with government contractors. Specifically, they take an accounting of the relationship between SAIC and the federal government as it influences the readers' moral center and tax statement.

The authors eloquently demonize the monster 'shadow corporation' but provide a wealth of facts and conjecture. It's a worthwhile read if you can filter the unncessary adjectives.

"To get some idea of the scale: contractors absorb the taxes paid by everyone in America with incomes under $100,000."

"Three years and a million lines of garbled computer code later, [the FBI's Virtual Case File system] has been written off by a global publication for technology professionals as 'the most highly publicized software failure in history.'"

"An unrepentant Donald Rumsfeld stated that he would shut down the Office of Strategic Influence—but in name only: 'There's the name. You can have the name, but I'm going to keep doing every single thing that needs to be done.'"

"Unlike traditional wars, which eventually come to an end, the Global War on Terror as defined by the Bush administration can have no end: it is a permanent war—the perfect war for a company that has become an essential component of the permanent government."

Hmmm.

Barren slopes [r] [s]

I took a midweek trip up to Tahoe's fabulous north shore. Apparently all that Wii Weather paid off, or I just got really lucky:

1. An hour after our flight left San Diego, the airport was shut down on account of heavy fog. My roommate was in a holding pattern for an hour before they redirected him to Vegas.
2. A snow flurry arrived for our first day of skiing. It created a slightly treacherous powder-on-ice situation, but was preferable to hot weather and a thin, icy base (experienced by the same roommate the days preceding).
3. The second day was very mild and clear with great, fresh snow.
4. We returned to Sacramento as a nasty storm was approaching, escaping Tahoe at precisely the right time.

The first day we skiied Squaw Valley, then Northstar on the next day. Both resorts were virtually deserted, leaving vacant slopes and nonexistent lines. In fact, the only significant population consisted of rainbow-scarved Google employees on their annual ski trip. It probably goes without saying that most of them took advantage of complimentary lessons and could be seen wobbling down the flats, so the mountain backsides were wonderfully barren.

Connie had her little point and shoot, so I had a some fun shooting a couple runs. I couldn't coax her into the snow park, but the vids definitely show what a nice day it was. Next purchase: auto-stabilization.

And finally, it was this trip that I realized how much better the Northstar runs are. Squaw's runs are short, the chairs are slow, and the lift/run setup is just lackluster (like Mammoth). Northstar has some long runs, a great all-diamond backside (see first video below), and lots of fast, high-capacity chairs.

XLI II [r] [s]

So yesterday was the Player's Sports Bar Super Bowl shindig. It was all you can eat, all you can drink for a modest $75. And in the event that either half's kickoff be returned for a touchdown, everyone would get their money back and ten g's would be up for grabs in the raffle.

As it turns out, the opening kickoff was returned for a touchdown. At that point it didn't matter the color of your jersey, we all cheered for free food and drink.

Our crew of nine arrived at noon to begin the seven-hour, lifespan-shortening orgy of food and drink. One individual made it his personal goal to expand the bartender's repertoire upon learning that they 'might' have the proper ingredients for a mudslide. His subsequent orders included a rumrunner, tokyo tea, and grateful dead. Apparently both the bartender and waitress derived passing amusement from having to research each concoction.

Another enterprising individual appointed himself the sportsbook and took, um, imaginary bets. I won all of mine:

• Coin toss comes up heads
• First interception thrown by Peyton
• Colts win by more than seven
• Grossman QB rating < 75.0
  
• Brian doesn't cry when the Colts win
  
• None of the white, female journalists on the field would interview a coach at half (facetious high-five to the South!)

Other unique ones were that there would be a Budweiser commercial before the first Pepsi commercial, and that the sports book would take a net loss for the evening.

Late arrivals to the game included horse and bear mascots that distributed gummy candy. Fox News and a local news radio station did some recording. The most auspicious Colts fan in our party was micced twice and we ended up making the ten o'clock news.

So serious props to Players. The food was fine, the drinks were plentiful, and the door prizes were worthwhile ($10 gift cert, insulated travel mug for everyone). And a big thanks to Devin Hester.

Here's what the sports book might have looked like:

XLI [s]

I don't know if you know this, but the Super Bowl was tonight. We went to Players and won our $75 back because the opening kickoff was returned for a touchdown. Also, I'm pretty sure I just fell off the second story of my house.

The new ish [s]

So the Pendleton Mud Run is coming up in five months. CS and KO have enlisted the resources of personal trainers. I prefer the old fashioned pathway to fitness - performance enhancing drugs. But I can't just sit on the couch and play Zelda letting the hormones turn me into the white Lance Armstrong, I have to benchmark myself every so often to gauge the quickness with which I effortlessly approach peak physical performance.

Hopefully this will take the form of a weekly sporting activity in the Mesa; last weekend we had a 4v4 football matchup. The highlight, of course, was Jon catching a football with his eye. A fairly extraordinary event, not because he injured himself, but because it was on the rebound from a tree placed conveniently in their end zone. Not only did the ball achieve the improbable by deflecting off the tree into his eye, but did so having originated fifty yards away where Bret clearly achieved the greatest kickoff in history.

Serious, I YouTubed The Play immediately afterwards. I said, 'After Bret's kickoff, this looks like a bunch of rhinos dooked partially-digested monkeys on a field and the monkeys are writhing toward one end of the field where there are a bunch of shiny dook monkeys.' Then I went to ebaums and found a video of a bunch of partially-digested dook monkeys on a field writhing toward one end of the field where there were a bunch of shiny dook monkeys. Exactly the same.