a former musician turned pro poker player, doug maverick, discusses the mistakes we make when thinking about the world.

Chemical Weapons Don't Kill People. People Kill People

As everyone with a television knows, the U.S. (presumably President Trump) ordered and executed a missile attack on a Syrian air base presumably in response to a chemical weapons attack on presumable civilians presumably ordered by Syrian President Bashar al-Assad
https://www.wsj.com/articles/u-s-launches-cruise-missiles-at-syrian-regime-airbase-in-response-to-chemical-attack-1491528268

I will spare you details in this post but let you know, if you do your own digging that this is a very complicated case of having multiple enemies of your enemy that may not be your friend.

That all being said, my intent is to look at the input (a President attacking his own civilians with chemical weapons) and the response (the U.S. bombing Shayrat Air Base).  Let me do this as I almost always prefer to: with a loosely related analogy.

Say I am walking outside one day (probably on my way to a Dairy Queen), and I see a man shoot an innocent civilian who was trying to get in line before him to get a Reese's peanut butter cup blizzard (rude, but potentially justified if it were the last one).  Anyway . . . I see this obvious human rights violation and know that, as a sick marksman and general bad-ass, I have to do something about it.

I approach the shooter (who has about 15 other guns strapped to his body) and pull out my 10-million dollar semi-automatic 59-round pistol.  I deftly fire one well-placed shot at the gun he used, knocking it to the ground.  This ice cream loving hombre shifts his stunned gaze to me as he knows his time is up.  He will never have another "Reese's peanut butter cup with extra Reese's please" again.  In a bizarre move, however, I then shift the pistol's business end toward his gun on the ground.  I then proceed to fire 59 $1.5 million diamond covered bullets into the gun until it I deem it no longer usable.  The man is too scared and confused to even think about drawing one of his other guns.  I look him in his blank stare and announce with steeled resolve "Let that be a lesson to you,"  and walk away . . .

Long story short:  I don't really get the point of what we did as a direct response to an, admittedly, moral atrocity in Syria.  I'm all for asserting yourself as a world power and a defender of human rights, but there might be better ways to tear your shirt off and show everybody you're the baddest dude in the prison yard.  Tell 'em, Hulkster.

 

 

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