Tortured

I've always been bigger in stature than my older brother John. When we were kids I was a lot taller and weighed a little more. Now I'm a little taller and weigh a lot more, but that's another story.

As kids it was always kind of funny for those looking on to see the four-foot guy beating up the five-foot guy. The fights were a total mismatch and although I outweighed John by plenty and had a lot more reach, I was toast when we were battling, mostly for fun.

His fun.

I distinctly recall the various forms of torture that John would initiate. Sometimes he would sit on my arms, straddling my chest, my back flat on the floor, and he would begin to drool, until the spit hung above my face and I rolled around trying to break free. Then he would suck it back in, laughing as he did so.

It's a common fighting technique employed by a bully all across the land.

I survived, and he could have gathered all sorts of information had he wanted to.

I bring this all up because of the great torture debate. Did the U.S. find out where the rat was hiding because they tortured other rats? Should waterboarding be legal? How about sleep deprivation? Forced nudity? Slapping?

There is plenty there to think about. For one, the information gathered under such scrutiny may not be all that reliable.

Keep me awake long enough and I might say that the Red Sux are a perfectly good organization.

That would, in fact, be a lie.

Secondly, there are those out there who say that we should rise above the techniques of our enemies. Why stoop to their level? Do prisoners have rights?

Of course it is not really all that debatable in terms of what happened in light of the recent rat capture. Poll citizens now...would they vote for torture in regard to capturing that bastard?

Of course.

Yet on a much higher level, where do you draw the line? When is it wrong?

The United Nations has rules of conduct. I doubt that the rules are followed like golf rules out on the battlefield. There may be slapping going on. But remember a few years back when soldiers were caught in compromising photos in their treatment of Iraq hostages?

Would you like American hostages to be subjected to unspeakable acts?

I'm sure they are.

Just something to think about, as you go about your daily activities. I know of what I speak. While I was never actually tortured there was most certainly a four-foot terrorist with a hanging spit waiting around every corner of the big house on Shirley Road.

The big, lanky oaf was always ready to talk...and scream: "Mom!!!!!!"

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Suits

My Buddy, Dave

Mom & Ollie