March 2010 Archives

I've been reading World War 2 books since fifth grade, when I read William Shirer's "The Rise and Fall of Adolf Hitler," a book that, truthfully, was lost on me at that age.

In all my reading, I never got around to reading some of the major memoirs from the Pacific war. Three books are usually mentioned: "Helmet for My Pillow," "With the Old Breed," and "Guadalcanal Diary." I read the latter in high school, but never read the other two. A serious oversight.

However, the new "Pacific" series is based partly on those two books, so they've been republished. I figured they would show up at Sam's Club, which is the cheapest place to buy books. And last weekend, "Helmet for My Pillow" did.

So I bought it, and read it. At 300 pages, a fairly quick read.

I was expecting more of a battlefield book. But Robert Leckie, who enlisted the day after Pearl Harbor, sort of partied his way through a lot of the war, pulling pranks, absconding with food, and getting into all kinds of mischief. He was on Guadalcanal, but didn't see the heavy action most soldiers did. That was followed by about 10 months of what he called "The Great Debauch" in Australia. In New Britain, he killed three Japanese on a jungle trail. Then, on Peleliu, he really got into thick combat, and was eventually wounded. That ended the war for him.  

Leckie is an excellent writer, a journalist even before enlisting. I enjoyed the book and never lost interest. And yet, I'm not sure why this is regarded as a classic.

An article I've referred to often is "Getting There from Here," by Atul Gawande, a cancer surgeon in Massachusetts. The article appeared in the January 26, 2009, issue of The New Yorker. Now, don't go hating on me and calling me a socialist. I'm just conveying information I found interesting.

Gawande discusses how universal healthcare came about in various countries. He says that in every country, the idea is initially derided as "a Bolshevik fantasy." Sounds familiar.

On both sides are idealists. Hardcore reformers insist that the best thing to do is start from scratch--scrape away the existing system and build the "perfect" system in its place. On the other side are the free market folks, who want to end all public and employer-based insurance, and let people fend for themselves in an open market. If you can afford it--fine; if not--tough.

In the middle are the pragmatists--and in every country, they prevail over the ideologues. Their vision is to start with the existing system, and build from there. It still involves major change, but it's less traumatic than starting from scratch.

Gawande gives three examples--France, Switzerland, and England. All had a healthcare system in place, and rather than dismantling it, they used it as the starting point. That is pretty much what we're doing in the US.

England's system emerged from World War 2, when private hospitals and clinics were overloaded with casualties (or destroyed). The government had to take over...and people liked the result. Their system grew from that point. Their road to national healthcare has absolutely no correlation to the US.

In France, the only organized healthcare involved collective insurance funds financed through payroll deductions by unions and major manufacturers. The French government was too busy with post-war rebuilding to spend much time on healthcare, so they just expanded the system already in place. Now they have more doctors, higher life expectancy, lower infant mortality, and lower costs than the US. The World Health Organization ranks it as the best healthcare system in the world (the US is 37th). And they didn't even put much effort into it. Not that the French put much effort into anything they do.

In Switzerland, people relied on private insurance. When they passed a universal coverage law in 1994, they required every resident to buy private insurance, and government subsidies restricted the cost to no more than 10% of the person's income. Some similarities to what we're doing...or not. Hard to tell what Congress will do, as they keep tweaking the thing to death.

The point is, each country starts at a different place, and each country's system is a bit different. The wise route is to build on what already exists, rather than start over. That seems to be the route we're taking.

I had heard about this photo, but recently stumbled across it. This satellite photo shows a night-time view of North and South Korea. North Korea is totally dark, except for its capital, Pyongyang--probably because Beloved Leader Kim Jong Il is up indulging his favorite pastime of watching American movies. China lies north of the border. (Obviously, the country outlines are superimposed.)

I remember reading a book about the Bataan Death March back in high school. I was astounded by the cruelty of the Japanese. But "Tears in the Darkness: The Story of the Bataan Death March and Its Aftermath," published in 2009, takes the horror much further. The Japanese committed terrible atrocities in the Philippines, and that underscores our benevolence as conquerors in rebuilding Japan. We are good people. The Japanese, back then, were decidedly not.

This book's center is Ben Steele, a US soldier who experiences a little of everything. He fights the Japanese for three months on Bataan. He endures the death march, and then the horrific train ride to the prison camp. We see men dying constantly, and being brutalized and killed for no reason by sadistic Japanese guards. Steele survives a work detail in the far south building a road, then lands in a POW hospital in Manila. After getting well, he and hundreds of other POWs are crammed into the hold of a "hell ship" and taken to Japan as slave laborers. He's there when Japan surrenders. The book drifts away from Steele, telling the stories of many other soldiers, but keeps coming back to him.

The subtitle is a bit misleading. The death march doesn't start until 170 pages into the book. Up to that point, it's all about the battle for Bataan, starting with the Jap invasion the day after Pearl Harbor. I hadn't read much about that. Our troops, joined by Filipino troops, actually fought very well against the combat-hardened Japanese. They might have even prevailed except for some huge mistakes by General Douglas MacArthur (who doesn't fare well in the book, at least regarding his command in the Philippines). When our troops on Bataan surrendered--76,000 Americans and Filipinos--it was the largest defeat in American history.

The authors also tell the stories of some Japanese soldiers. The whole culture of the Japanese army was based on cruelty, including to their fellow soldiers. It helped explain their casual brutality toward POWs. We see the Japanese slaughter hundreds and hundreds of Filipino prisoners, bayoneting them. But we also see Japanese soldiers who refused to take part. It reminded me of the German soldiers in "Ordinary Men" who likewise abstained from executing Jews in Poland.

I'm fascinated by how ordinary people can so easily descend into brutality. "Ordinary Men" showed that, as did "Hitler's Willing Executioners," "The Railway Man," "The Rape of Nanking," and to bring us to the present, "The Dark Side," where America embraced torture for a short time after 9/11. (And as a fiction entry, there's "The Lord of the Flies.")

The mistreatment of our POWs in "Tears in the Darkness" got me so worked up that I wanted revenge. But then the authors turn a corner with the war crimes trial of the Japanese general who commanded the invasion of the Philippines (and was relieved of command shortly after we surrendered). The circumstances are far too complicated to explain here, but suffice it to say, there was a strong case for not holding him responsible for the atrocities. I'm still conflicted about it. The American military tribunal was pretty much a done deal--they went through the motions of a trial, but he was going to be killed in the end. For the authors to fling 350 pages of atrocities at the reader, and then suddenly make you sympathetic toward the Japanese general...I tell you, it was fascinating.

I previously reviewed Michael Yon's book "Moment of Truth in Iraq," which tells of his experiences while embedded with US troops in Iraq. The book talks a lot about how American soldiers are viewed by the Iraqi soldiers whom they train and fight alongside.

Yon writes:

"The American soldier is the most dangerous man in the world, and the Iraqis had to learn that before they would trust or respect us. But it was when they understood that these great-hearted warriors, who so enjoyed killing the enemy, are even happier helping to build a school or to make a neighborhood safe that we really got their attention."

He says that before the invasion, Iraqis looked down on American soldiers. They thought we were soft, hiding behind our technology. Even after conquering the country quickly, they could chalk that up to our superior equipment. But over time, they observed the American willingness to fight and suffer.

"It was only after, when they saw that our people were better street fighters, too, and that American combat soldiers would match or outlast them in the heat, that they began to understand. At this point, the man to man respect was there."

Not only that, but Iraqi soldiers watched, and tried to copy, their American counterparts. For them, it was a matter of learning from the best. I loved this part:

"Iraqi soldiers and police constantly emulated marines and soldiers. When he got back from missions, SSG Lee worked out. The Iraqis would watch him and start doing their own exercises. Lee was just being himself, and the young Iraqis wanted to be like him....By showing that the strongest soldier is also disciplined, just, and compassionate, soldiers like SSG Lee were winning the moral high ground in Iraq and devastating Al Qaeda. I saw an Iraqi Army lieutenant named Hamid treating prisoners with respect, because he had seen American soldiers do it."

In the Iraqi army, officers had led from the rear. Now they learned a different type of leadership. "The Iraqis were amazed that American officers and sergeants would lead from the front into the worst situations.....Soon the Iraqi officers who survived and mattered were leading from the front." He adds, "Iraqi soldiers might be a lot of things, but cowards they are not....Courage is not in short supply in Iraq."

Yon writes that everywhere he went, Iraqis responded to strong leadership.

"Leading the Iraqis by example worked, but cost us casualties. The American combat soldiers I was with in Mosul in 2005 were not there to play it safe. Their goal was to win. If it cost blood, then blood it would cost. The Iraqis were wild for that sort of leadership."

The Abu Ghraib and torture abuses left stains which had to be overcome, and which initially deprived us of the moral high ground which is crucial to counter-insurgency. But, Yon writes:

"Even during the outrages of the Fallujah-flattenings and prisoner rape-torture debacles, Iraqis never turned against us the way they would later turn against al Qaeda. We were never completely evil in their eyes. Dumb, overbearing, disrespectful, but not evil....Though Iraqis know we were torturing Iraqi prisoners earlier in the war, overwhelmingly they accept that we have straightened up and that Americans now treat prisoners very well....

"They knew we did a lot of stupid and overbearing things, even brutal and criminal things at times. But they also could not deny that, on the whole, our people had a heart for them, or at least for their kids."

Cameron, my nephew, was out in the garage with Dad, who had been working on Cameron's bicycle. Cam's in kindergarten, I think. Maybe first grade. I lose track.

Rick and I were inside, talking to Mom. Suddenly Cam comes running in to Rick, very excited.

"Daddy, Grandpa let me ride my bike on the ROAD!"

Anthem Insurance sent me a letter authorizing my MRI. It said that if the date of the MRI changed, I needed to call them. They gave a number to call.

So I did. I listened to the phone options, and took a wild guess about which one applied to me. A Real Person soon came on the line, and I explained my situation.

"I'll need to transfer you to the department that deals with that," Real Person said.

A second later, a phone rang, and a woman said in a tentative voice, "Hello?" As if she'd looked at the caller ID and didn't recognize the number.

I began explaining my situation. "I had an MRI scheduled last Friday, but it had to be rescheduled, so I'm calling...."

She cut me off. "I'm sorry, but you have the wrong number."

Anthem had transferred me totally out of their system to a private citizen.

So I tried calling the number on my card. After several transfers, each preceded with me explaining why I was calling, I finally reached someone who told me this:

"There was no need for you to call."

Ron is one of the better players in the Fort Wayne table tennis club. He also manages a golf course.

Tonight I said to him: "I imagine you've heard every opinion possible about Tiger Woods."

He smiled. Yes he had. Then he said, "Here's my opinion, if anyone's interested. One: You don't really know a person's character, deep down, until they are tested--until they have opportunity. Two: I hope I never have opportunity."

That's a humble, "there but by the grace of God go I" kind of attitude. A good attitude to have.

Most contemporary worship songs are sugary love songs--I adore God, and God adores me. That pretty much sums up every "worship" song I hear anymore. It's all above love, love, love.

I've always liked Lovesong's simple "Two Hands" song: "With one hand reach out to Jesus, and with the other, bring a friend." But according to the songs we sing, we've decided only the first hand is really important. Our singing is all vertical (from us to God and back), without the horizontal (us to others).

I've heard others complain that today's worship songs are, to be sexist, girly songs. All of these love themes lack testosterone. Where are today's "Onward Christian Soldiers," "Stand Up for Jesus," "Soldiers of Christ Arise," "The Banner of the Cross," and "I am Resolved"--songs a guy with hair on his chest can sing?

Worship songs rarely, if ever, talk about:

• God's judgment on nonbelievers.
• Going into the world.
• Giving up anything (beyond the nebulous "my all").
• Ministering to the downtrodden.
• Experiencing trials and tribulations.
• Holy living.
• Suffering for Christ.
• What Christ suffered for us.
  

"Sin" seems to be missing from worship songs. We lack a "Whiter than Snow" to talk about holy living. Remember the old hymn, "Yield Not to Temptation"? You won't find, in contemporary music, lyrics that spell out truths like this:

Yield not to temptation, for yielding is sin,
Each victory will help you, some other to win.
Fight manfully onward, dark passions subdue,
Look ever to Jesus, He'll carry you through.

And what about reaching the world? In our obsession with the vertical, we rarely sing about the Great Commission. Who is writing the next "We've a Story to Tell to the Nations," "I'll Go Where You Want Me to Go", or "Bring Them In"? Would Chris Tomlin ever write a song like "Rescue the Perishing"? Or would the fact that people are perishing be too much of a downer, too unworshipful?

As a keyboardist in a worship band, I do my share of grumbling about hymns--how they're difficult to play, don't communicate well with people today, and the lyrics mangle sentence structure in order to rhyme. I think a lot of great music is being written today. A LOT. It's just too limited subject-wise.

While I don't like playing most hymns (some I LOVE), I admire the themes you find in a hymnal. They cover the gamut of what the Christian life is about. Sure, you'll find some lovey-dovey hymns, spiritual pablum, but there's so much more, too.

But contemporary Christians just don't feel they are "worshiping" if they are singing about people going to hell, or conquering sin, or sacrificing for other people, or the hardships of the Christian life. Because, in our thinking, "It's all about God and me and how happy I will be."

(BTW, I've ranted about this stuff before here, here, and here.)

From the weird file: In 1995, a South Carolina man named Sonny Graham got a heart transplant, using the heart of a man who had committed suicide. He struck up a relationship with the man's widow in 1997, and married her in 2004. And now he, too, has committed suicide.

So there are two common elements: the heart, and the woman. Who to blame?

Democrats want to pass healthcare reform, but they don't want to get caught voting for it. What a bunch of weasels! Tonight, in wrapping up their programs, both Glenn Beck and Chris Matthews castigated the cowardice of the Democrats. I think this, finally, is something nearly all Americans can agree on.

As I've said before, I favor the IDEA of universal healthcare, but I don't favor what's been presented, with all the special deals. I thought they had kind of started over after the Scott Brown election. But it sounds like the same mess.

I'm sure President Obama is totally frustrated with Congress. The "reconciliation" and "deem and pass" schemes look bad bad BAD, and Obama is forced into being an apologist for procedural shenanigans that he knows everyone views as pathetic. Thanks, Nancy and Harry. Your weak leadership has made a mockery of things and brought discredit to the President, who is nevertheless doing his best to try to sell a Big Mess.

Not that I like how the Republicans have behaved either. There's enough stupidity to go around several times.

Brett Baier's interview with Obama tonight on Fox was interesting. Obama walked all over Baier, as Presidents can do. Baier was well prepared, and he tried, so I've got to give him credit. Baier asked questions for which I wanted answers, but they weren't forthcoming. Very disappointing. I don't think the interview helped Obama.

Baier did ask one of the dumbest questions I've heard: "If healthcare doesn't pass, does that diminish your presidency?" How was Obama supposed to answer that? "Yes, if it doesn't pass, I'm toast." Totally absurd question.

I want an up-or-down vote. Our divided country deserves that, especially with such a consequential bill. Instead, we're getting a bunch of procedural scheming. If this is how we're going to pass healthcare reform, I'm not in favor at all.

"The Bottom Billion" is a fascinating study of the poorest countries in the world. Paul Collier, a former official with the World Bank, is one of the world's leading experts on African economies. He has worked with, and studied, the dynamics that keep a country down.

Collier says the previous paradigm was one billion people in rich countries and five billion in poor countries. But now, he says, "We must learn to turn the familiar numbers upside down: a total of five billion people who are already prosperous, or at least are on track to be so, and one billion who are stuck at the bottom."

The bottom billion consists of people in 58 countries. "Their reality," he writes, "is the 14th century: civil war, plague, ignorance." Africa is the main problem, but some such countries exist in Central Asia.

Collier and his colleagues and students (he teaches Economics at Oxford) have done gobs of empirical studies which shed light on the problems of the bottom billion. Being a good academic, he warns you when he uses results which haven't been subjected to peer review, and therefore shouldn't be taken as gospel.

Collier examines four characteristics common among the bottom-billion countries.

1. Going through a civil war. The poorer the country when conflict starts, the longer it lasts. After going through a civil war, the risk of going through another one doubles. Only half of the countries in which a conflict has ended manage to make it through a decade without relapsing into war. The poorer you are, the great the risk of relapse.

2. The predominance of revenue from natural resources. Sierra Leone's economy, for instance, is dominated by diamonds; politicians fight and maneuver to get their fingers in that pot. With so much attention focused on natural resources, other types of business are never nourished. The country becomes a one trick pony.

3. Being landlocked with bad neighbors. Many African countries have no access to the sea--Mali, Niger, Chad, Uganda, Zambia, Botswana, Rwanda, Burundi, and others. Landlocked countries rely on having good neighbors, who either provide access to the sea or provide a good market. Switzerland, though landlocked, is surrounded by its market--healthy countries like Germany, Italy, and France. But Uganda is stuck with Kenya, which has no incentive to build roads to Uganda and has too many problems to be a good market for anything produced in Uganda.

4. Bad governance and poor economic policies. Such countries can't attract investment capital, because they are perceived as a poor risk. With no opportunities, educated, quality people leave to seek their way in other countries. Rebel or coup leaders, upon seizing power, put fellow soldiers into important government posts, with responsibility over areas they know nothing about, resulting in increased dysfunction and corruption.

Collier also hit other aspects of this subject, such as the use, and misuse, of foreign aid. And in a surprising chapter, he presents excellent arguments for military intervention in certain circumstances.

The book is filled with fascinating insights backed by statistical research. I gained a fresh and deep understanding of why bottom-billion countries tend to stay at the bottom.

Todd Rhoades wonders how we settled on 30-40 minutes as the typical length of a sermon. He asks, "Why do you speak the length you speak? Is it because it takes you that long to say what you need to say, or because you have that much time to fill?" The amount of valuable content, not the size of the time slot, should determine how long the sermon lasts.

Rhoades notes that we've changed so many things about church services--songs, order, attire, tone, etc. But we've kept the sermon length the same.

He mentions being involved with two online conferences where speakers were limited to 6 minutes--and they all came through. So, could a six-minute sermon work?

I'm reminded of a freelance magazine article I wrote 30 years ago about an experience helping a woman and her mentally-challenged son during the Blizzard of '78, when we were stranded together in Denver. It started at 2700 words, but I couldn't find any takers. So I cut it to 2400 words and sent it out again. Then 2000 words. Still couldn't sell it.

I cut it to 1800 words, then 1500, then 1200, sending it out anew with each edition This stretched over a period of probably 5 years. I just wouldn't give up on the story.

Finally, I sent a 1000-word version (about one-third of the original size) to a Mennonite publisher. The editor wrote back, "We like your article and would like to use it...if you can cut it to 800 words."

So I did. They bought it and published it at that length. And it was the best version of the article. No fluff, no padding. Just the essential story, with a punch you couldn't avoid.

So could a 30-minute sermon be packed into a 10-minute slot, or a six-minute slot? A six-minute sermon might actually take more preparation than a 30-minute sermon. I know it could be done, and it could be really effective that way. But, as Todd Rhoades says, it'll never happen. We're tied to the 30-40 minute sermon paradigm, and nobody's gonna change that.

Apple went to court in Australia to prevent companies from using a lower-case "i" in product names, arguing that a "person of ordinary intelligence and memory" would assume any "i" product came from Apple. The case centered on DOPi, a brand of bags. Of course, DOPi backwords is iPOD, which makes it even more interesting.

It's kind of like Lindsey Lohan suing over the use of the name "Lindsey" in a Super Bowl ad, saying that people would automatically think the ads refers to her. As if she's a one-word brand, like Oprah or Madonna.

Apple lost the case. The court (actually, a trademark tribunal) noted a number of other "i" products, like iSkin and iSoft.

As a huge Apple fan, let me just say: Apple, get over yourself.

After taking command in 2007, General David Petraus wrote a letter on "Values" to all of his soldiers.

"Our values and the laws governing warfare teach us to respect human dignity, maintain our integrity, and do what is right. Adherence to our values distinguishes us from our enemy. This fight depends on securing the population, which must understand that we--not our enemies--occupy the moral high ground.....

"Some may argue that we would be more effective if we sanctioned torture or other expedient methods to obtain information from the enemy. They would be wrong. Beyond the basic fact that such actions are illegal, history shows that they also are frequently neither useful nor necessary....

"In everything we do, we must observe the standards and values that dictate that we treat noncombatants and detainees with dignity and respect. While we are warriors, we are also human beings."

Sounds good--but does it work? Yes, it does. Michael Yon shows that over and over in his book, "Moment of Truth in Iraq."

Early on, the American military tried to impose its will with brute force, the idea that, "All these people understand is force." That didn't work in Vietnam, and it didn't work in Iraq. The Special Forces people, and men like David Petraus, knew that heavy-handedness would fail and only serve to recruit more insurgents. But the people in charge at the beginning, both civilian and conventional military commanders, didn't  "get it."

Petraus instituted what Yon describes as a "value driven counter-insurgency." He writes:

"Some think all of this talk of values is a sign of weakness. But in a counterinsurgency, our greatest resource is not the overwhelming firepower we can bring to bear upon the enemy, or the high technology we can use to locate and identify him. Our most powerful weapon is our values." In a counterinsurgency, he says, "The superior fighting force occupying the moral high ground holds a commanding position."

Someone compared Michael Yon to Ernie Pyle, the World War 2 reporting legend, and that got me interested in reading Yon's book, "Moment of Truth in Iraq." Yon, a former Green Beret, has spent more time embedded with combat troops in Iraq and Afghanistan than any other reporter. I like that kind of writing. And I loved this book. I learned much that I didn't know, and have had to alter some of my views.

I wouldn't compare his writing to Ernie Pyle, who wrote fascinating human interest stories about American soldiers in the midst of war. Yon does share Pyle's admiration for American soldiers, and he gets up close and personal. He, like Pyle, lives with soldiers on the Sharp Edge. But the writing style is different.

Gen. David Petraus praises the book. "He's fearless...provides a candid, soldier's eye view...from the very unique perspective of being there with them for weeks and months at a time."

Yon goes into battle many times and describes those firefights and the acts of valor he witnesses. I was deeply moved by many little vignettes. However, it's not a sugar-coated book. He's an objective reporter with no agenda to pursue or legacy to protect, so he points out warts when he sees them. But overall, I came away from the book thinking, "Wow, things are going a lot better in Iraq than I thought."

Yon arrived in Iraq in December 2004, when things were going very badly and our civilian leaders were in the "State of Denial" described in Bob Woodward's book. But over the next several years (Yon's book was published in 2008), you see things turn around, particularly under the leadership of David Petraus. Yon doesn't deal with the dramas surrounding the budding Iraqi government, and only tangentially with the US civilian leadership. Rather, his focus is on soldiers on the front lines, and how a change in approach--the application of counter-insurgency principles--made a vast difference.

And let me emphasize: the turn-around Yon describes occurred on George Bush's watch (though mostly after Rumsfield left and Cheney was marginalized). Obama has wisely continued the approach he inherited.

Yon (left) superbly pictures the principles of counter-insurgency in action. You really need to see these principles lived out to appreciate them. Thomas Ricks talks about counter-insurgency theory in "Fiasco," which ends just as David Petraus is taking over, and he describes a couple major success stories--one in 2003 when Petraus commanded the 101st Airborne in Mosul, and then later in Tal Afar (both of which were basically rogue operations by individual commanders who "got it"). But counter-insurgency principles permeate Yon's book, and you can't help but realize, "We should have been doing this all along." Yon, as a Green Beret, was trained in these principles, so he understands what he's looking at.

Some of the other things I took away from the book:

• The perpetual lack of troops. We didn't go in with nearly enough troops, and we've never had enough since. The surge helped (and we must be careful not to draw down prematurely).
• Yon describes what we're doing as a "values-driven counter-insurgency." He criticizes brute-force tactics common earlier in the war, along with the torture and abuse of prisoners. He continually stresses the critical importance, in an insurgency, of occupying the moral high ground. I've read about this, but Yon gives vivid examples of the principle in action. This, more than anything (more than the surge), has turned things around for us in Iraq.
• Al Qaeda's brutality has turned the Iraqi people against it. Al Qaeda is on the run in Iraq, he says. Iraqis realize that the Americans, not Al Qaeda, have Iraq's best interests at heart. He gives many examples of the senseless brutality of Al Qaeda (like baking an 11-year-old boy and feeding him to his parents). He also shows the many ways Iraqi citizens are now helping us (calling in or pointing out the location of IEDs, or emailing Google Earth maps showing where to find terrorists).
• The Iraqi soldiers have gotten a bad wrap. Yon goes into battle with Iraqi soldiers, and talks to American soldiers who have fought alongside them. We've heard the negative stories, about Iraqis sitting on the sidelines while Americans do the fighting. But Yon describes well-trained Iraqis who never back down from a fight, and who are ferocious allies in fighting Al Qaeda. This is an undertold aspect of the war.
  
• He points out that a hidden skill set of the military is how to run a city--invaluable knowledge in restoring normality in Iraq. He says that knowledge comes from running large military bases around the world, where officers must deal with water, electricity, sanitation, sewage, police, courts, prisons, fire, schools, and everything else that a city deals with.
• Yon shows the sheiks uniting behind the Americans, especially in Anbar. We think of them as being religiously motivated, but Yon says, "Shieks are businessmen. Ultimately the sheiks of Anbar turned against al Qaeda because al Qaeda was bad for business."
• During the fierce battle for Baqubah, Yon describes how, throughout the battle, Americans worked with Iraqi civilian leaders to deal with city services even as they tried to subdue the city. "[Commanders] alternated between teatime, firefight, teatime again, while figuring out food distribution, firefight, raid, IED, collapse from exhaustion, firefight, teatime, while arguing about some water pipes, and then firefight again."
• Yon depicts American officers showing incredible wisdom in dealing with difficult situations, some in harrowing situations.
  
• Yon dismisses the idea of partitioning Iraq into Kurd, Sunni, and Shia areas, as has been proposed. He argues that though these groups don't get along, and don't mind slaughtering each other, Iraqis consider themselves foremost to be Iraqis.
• Yon also spent time with British troops in Basra, and tagged along with them into some ferocious firefights. He highly respects the British.

In September 2007, Yon returned to the States and was dismayed at the "tremendous gulf between what was actually happening in Iraq and what people in America thought was happening. It was as if the inertia of the bad news from the previous three years had made it impossible to take in new information."

He had seen a transformation in Iraq which he describes as miraculous, but Americans back home seemed oblivious. Yon writes, "It was far too early to declare victory. But it was definitely time to declare serious progress."

The Predator unmanned drone is an incredible weapon. Some consider it by far the most effective weapon we have against Al Qaeda. You don't hear much about the Predator successes, because they usually occur in remote regions of Pakistan where reporters can't go. But Predators are constantly on the prowl, and constantly taking out Bad Guys.

The New Yorker has the best long-form reporting you'll find anywhere, and Jane Mayer, who mostly writes on military affairs, has become my favorite New Yorker writer. Last October she wrote a lengthy feature (is there any other kind in the New Yorker?) looking at how we use the Predator. It was fascinating.

There are two Predator programs. The military version operates in Afghanistan and Iraq as an extension of ground forces, with 200+ drones. The CIA's program is aimed at terror suspects wherever they can be found, but mostly in Pakistan; the program isn't officially acknowledged, and the number of Predators is unknown.

The CIA strikes require the president's approval. President Obama has dramatically increased  the number of Predator strikes, beginning with two strikes in Pakistan on his third day in office.

During his first nine months in office, Obama authorized more CIA aerial attacks in Pakistan than George Bush did in his final three years in office--over 40 strikes, or around one bombing a week. Those strikes had  killed up to 538 people (Predators leave a lot of collateral damage, but you've got to have mixed feelings about folks who hang out around terrorists). Multiple drones constantly fly over Pakistan, looking for targets.

She writes about four Europeans who tried to join Al Qaeda in Pakistan, and who "described a life of constant fear and distrust among the militants, whose obsession with drone strikes had led them to communicate only with elaborate secrecy and to leave their squalid hideouts only at night." Wouldn't you be uptight if you knew a silent, invisible Predator circling above might fire a missile into you at any moment?

One Taliban leader the Pakistanis wanted killed was targeted by 16 missile strikes before we finally got him. Those first 15 strikes killed 207-321 people, depending on your information source. So that's an issue our military leaders wrestle with.

How many innocent people is it okay to kill? John Radsan, a former CIA lawyer, put it like this: "If it's Osama bin Laden in a house with a four-year-old, most people will say go ahead. But if it's three or four children? Some say that's too many. And if he's in a school? Many say don't do it."

That gives insight into the difficult decisions military leaders in a values-laded country must make regarding terrorists who cowardly hide among innocent people.

I gotta agree with Chief Justice John Roberts in regard to the State of the Union Address--how it's become a political pep rally. The justices sit there surrounded by hooting and hollering Congressmen, and are by tradition expected to remain stone-faced, expressionless--even as the President criticizes them for a recent decision.

Obama was wrong to criticize the Supreme Court in that atmosphere (and wrong in how he characterized their decision, apparently). And Roberts was right to say, "To the extent the State of the Union has degenerated into a political pep rally, I'm not sure why we are there."

Glenn Beck wants me to leave my church. He said on his show:

"I beg you, look for the words 'social justice' or 'economic justice' on your church Web site. If you find it, run as fast as you can. Social justice and economic justice, they are code words. Now, am I advising people to leave their church? Yes."

Anchor is spending four Sunday nights talking about issues of justice, particularly as it applies to people in our immediate community. But Glenn doesn't think we should be talking about such things. They are, apparently, evil concepts.

According to Glenn Beck, "social justice" and "economic justice" are code words for communism and Nazism.

The thing that bothers me is, untold tens of thousands of gullible Christians dutifully absorb everything Beck says as the Gospel truth. And so, gobs of Christians will now oppose anything that speaks of justice...because Glenn told them to. They'll even leave their church if the pastor talks about social justice...because Glenn told them to.

Glenn might benefit from reading the New Testament sometime, which is saturated with his evil code words.

That's me on the far right, kneeling, next to our coach, Guru Rajneesh (actually his name was Ross Gentry). This was 11th grade, my third and final year of playing high school ball. (Click photo to enlarge.)

When I go to the YMCA, I sometimes watch the games being played on the two basketball courts. And it maddens me. Because nobody passes. When a guy gets the ball, he dribbles around until he can find space to loft up a shot, which usually misses. They're all a bunch of gunners. And this is Indiana, where basketball is supposed to be more pure, more fundamental, than elsewhere.

I love seeing good passes. But they don't exist at the Y.

In my basketball days, I was always a point guard. My greatest delight was the pass, hitting someone when he was open. I didn't need to score. I loved enabling others to score. That's what point guards do.

Of course, part of it was just compensating for my weakness, which was shooting. I was always a terrible shooter. If the coach said we could leave practice after making five straight free throws--well get me a pillow, because I'm gonna be here all night.

But I could always pass, and let others do the scoring.

In pickup games, whether in PE or on the court behind our house in Pixley, Calif, where scores of kids came to play, I looked to pass. And sometimes, there would be one guy who knew that, if he got open under the basket, I would get him the ball. And HE would then score. I loved that, watching this guy maneuver and making sure I was in position to dish him the ball.

In pickup games, it's not especially hard to get open (especially in PE). Nobody guards vigorously. So if you put just a little effort into getting open, it'll happen. And I would get you the ball somehow.

But at the YMCA, nobody plays to pass. Consequently, nobody tries to get open...because, what's the point? Everyone knows that the guy with the ball is gonna dribble around and eventually shoot. So everyone else is just a spectator, standing around until he lets fly.

I would not enjoy playing in those games. It drives me nuts just watching.

I don't have a lot of opinions about the Oscar results, but I was definitely interested in the competition between Avatar and The Hurt Locker, which are the only two contending films I saw.

Some people may draw comparisons to the year when Shakespeare in Love beat out Saving Private Ryan for Best Picture. I never saw Shakespeare in Love, and it seems to have been forgotten, but Saving Private Ryan will always remain as one of the best war movies ever.

The Hurt Locker was a small movie, compared to Avatar. But I'm totally okay with it winning Best Picture. It was a truly memorable movie.

A number of scenes from The Hurt Locker are etched in my memory:

• The creepy Iraqi with the videocamera filming while they were trying to defuse a car bomb.
• The sniper scene out in the desert.
• The attempt to defuse the bomb padlocked around a guy.
• Jeremy Renner's character standing in a street and pulling up a whole circle of bombs, with a creepy (I've used that word again) man of uncertain motives watching through a window and finally slinking away.

I tell people I felt dusty after watching the movie. I've not been to Iraq, but I felt like I was there.

(Speaking of creepy: what's with that Hurt Locker producer jerking Kathryn Bigelow around by her arm? A ground-breaking moment for women, in that a woman wins Best Director, but you see this guy directing her around like she's a child.)

Then there's the Avatar juggernaut, biggest blockbuster in history. It didn't affect me emotionally like The Hurt Locker, but the innovation was, ahem, out of this world. I'm sure it broke new ground in movie-making. I can't come within lightyears of comprehending James Cameron's vision and thought processes for that movie. Avatar was truly a masterwork of directing.

So here's what I would like to have seen:

• Give Best Picture to The Hurt Locker.
• Give Best Director to James Cameron.

Charles Murray of the conservative American Enterprise Institute writes in his column "The Unbearable Paradox of Glenn Beck" that he agrees with Glenn Beck 95% of the time on substantive issues. "The man is a gifted communicator. His style doesn't happen to be one I like, but many times I've sat there on my sofa wishing I could make the same point as effectively."

But he doesn't like Beck's style, and doesn't find him trustworthy. "I don't really want to shut him up. I want him to change."

Murray, a thoughtful guy, wants intellectual honesty. He continues:

Beck uses tactics that include tiny snippets of film as proof of a person's worldview, guilt by association, insinuation, and occasionally outright goofs....To put it another way, I as a viewer have no way to judge whether Beck is right. I have to trust that the snippets are not taken out of context, that the dubious association between A and B actually has evidence to support it, and that his numbers are accurate. It is impossible to have that trust....

What Beck does is propaganda. Maybe propaganda has its place, but let's not kid ourselves. Glenn Beck and Keith Olberman are brothers.

In another column, "Is Glenn Beck Our Friend," Murray writes:

My reader--the one I'm talking to with every sentence--is a bright, reasonable person who doesn't agree with me but comes to my text ready to give me a shot. My task is to get this reader to stick with me as we work through difficult questions. If I take a cheap shot at his point of view, I'm going to lose him. If I duck an obvious objection to the argument I'm making, I'm going to lose him.

We are indeed engaged in a battle for America's soul, but the way that battle is conducted makes a big difference....Our job is to engage in a debate on great issues and make converts to our point of view. The key word is converts--referring to people who didn't start out agreeing with us. We shouldn't be civil and reasonable just because we want to be nice guys. It is the only option we've got if we want to succeed instead of just posture. The Glenn Becks of the world posture, and make our work harder.

I picked this out of an email someone sent me.

Noah drank too much
Abraham had no idea where he was going
Isaac was a daydreamer
Jacob was a liar
Leah was ugly
Joseph was abused
Moses had a stuttering problem
Gideon was afraid
Sampson was a womanizer
Rahab was a prostitute
Jeremiah and Timothy were too young
David had an affair and was a murderer
Elijah was suicidal
Isaiah preached naked
Jonah ran from God
Daniel was thrown to the lions
Naomi was a widow
Job went bankrupt
John the Baptist ate bugs
Peter denied Christ
The Disciples fell asleep while praying
Martha worried about everything
The Samaritan woman was divorced, more than once
Zaccheus was too small
Paul was stubborn
Timothy had an ulcer....
AND Lazarus was dead!

Greg Boyd quotes this recent letter to the editor from his local newspaper on his blog.

When I read letters sent in by Bible thumping Christians telling us how sinful we are and how right they are, how God is on their side, not ours, how God hates gays, liberals and other evil people, I close my eyes for a moment and say a quiet prayer. "I thank thee oh Lord that I am not and never will be a Christian."

Boyd then makes a fascinating point. He noted that Jesus attracted prostitutes and tax collectors, the sinners most despised in his day. He asks, "Where are the prostitutes and tax collectors of our day?" We generally despise gays and abortion providers. Are they attracted to Christians, as they would undoubtedly have been drawn to Jesus?

Think about that: gays and abortion providers would be drawn to Jesus.

Once again, I am thumped broadside with the radical nature of Jesus...and how little we understand what He was really like.