Mark Bossingham

Not losing

THE NEWS out of Iraq must be getting hard for the defeat-at-any-cost crowd to bear.

BAGHDAD, Oct 22 (Reuters) - Violence in Iraq has dropped by 70 percent since the end of June, when U.S. forces completed their build-up of 30,000 extra troops to stabilise the war-torn country, the Interior Ministry said on Monday. ... While the leaders have failed to agree on key laws aimed at reconciling the country's warring sects, the troop buildup has succeeded in quelling the violence.

IFA Week

FOR MORE info go here.

Are you "war weary"

I CAN'T imagine why. As they say: "The U.S. is not at war, Marines and soldiers are at war. The rest of the U.S. is waiting in line at the drive-thru."

Corrupt U.S. journalists and wannabe pundits

GEN. RICARDO Sanchez gave a speech at the Military Reporters and Editors conference Oct. 13. He had some harsh words for the the conduct of the war in Iraq. These words were splashed across the the papers in States and elsewhere. However, his comments on the media were more pointed. One of the advantages of being the gatekeeper is that you can suppress criticism directed at you. Indeed, his comments were simply not reported. For the record, he said:

"Given the near instantaneous ability to report actions on the ground, the responsibility to accurately and truthfully report takes on an unprecedented importance. The speculative and often uninformed initial reporting that characterizes our media appears to be rapidly becoming the standard of the industry. An Arab proverb states - "Four things come not back: the spoken word, the spent arrow, the past, the neglected opportunity." Once reported, your assessments become conventional wisdom and nearly impossible to change. Other major challenges are your willingness to be manipulated by "high level officials" who leak stories and by lawyers who use hyperbole to strengthen their arguments. Your unwillingness to accurately and prominently correct your mistakes and your agenda driven biases contribute to this corrosive environment. All of these challenges combined create a media environment that does a tremendous disservice to America."

U.S. leftists employed as journalists (most newswriters and 99 percent of feature writers in my experience) will instantly yelp that Sanchez "was questioning their patriotism." While I certainly would, he wasn't--he was pointing out that they are ill-informed and ethically corrupt.

Update — Crazy Noise

THE PLAN was to stick in a chapter of my novel every month. Too lazy. But do want to get it all up soon, so here's a super-bonus: Three chapters! Things are getting pretty scary! And the good guys' arch-nemesis, already dangerously crazy, is getting worse. Get to it. As usual, the book is available online at all the usual places. Warning. I checked Amazon Japan the other day, and the price had shot up to some ridiculous figure. Since my royalty checks are hardly worth the trouble to cash, I figure you are better off reading it here. If you are up to speed (unlikely) go here, or visit the archives on the left side of the page. There you will find a chapter listing. Otherwise, you can just read it as you would a book.

My latest: Kayaking

HEY, WHY take a vacation if you can't milk it for a few newspaper columns? Here's another one on kayaking, foreshadowed in the previous. See it online at the Asahi site here or below.

A lack of teamwork leaves kayaking couple on the rocks
    It seemed like a good idea at the time. We would be visiting the Hawaiian Islands, and the cruise line was pushing us to sign up for shore excursions.
    My sister chose the ocean kayaking adventure in Hilo Bay. She and her son were experienced kayakers. My wife and I were not. What the hell, I thought. How hard could it be? I'd seen people leisurely paddling up placid rivers in movies. They always had time for clever banter.
The van to transport us to the beach arrived. The name of the excursion company was spelled out on the van's side with little pieces of black electrician's tape.
    At the beach, Guide No. 1 asked who had kayaking experience. Many hands waved in the pleasant tropical breeze. He gave a quick paddling lesson while his girlfriend, Guide No. 2, smiled.
It sounded difficult. Apparently, there were many ways to screw up. My wife and I would soon find all of them. He then asked, "See that white building across the bay?" Everyone nodded. "Paddle for that. If you aim directly for the bridge (our initial destination), the current will put you on the rocks and we wouldn't want that, would we?"
    We set off, pushing our tandem kayak into the ocean along with six other "teams." I sat in the back. According to Guide No. 1, I was in charge of steering. Our paddles smacked into the water splashing both of us. We laughed until we noticed that our kayak wasn't moving forward, at least not like all the others. We were already 200 meters behind the pod of kayaks and we had only been at it for five minutes.
    I tried to give my wife paddling tips. She took it badly and accused me of "incompetent steering." Ten minutes into our excursion, sweat poured down my face. She said she wanted to go "home." The sun gazed upon our pathetic efforts mercilessly.
    Five hundred meters ahead, a middle-aged couple in identical outfits led the pack. In perfect unison, they were like a machine.
As we neared the bridge, my paddle slipped, and I nearly took my wife's head off. Though it merely grazed her ear, she "accidentally" poked me in the gut with her paddle.
    We passed under the bridge. Up ahead, I could see our kayaking buddies enjoying their rest period. Desperate to catch up, I paddled furiously--and drove our kayak on top of a rock. Drat! Beached!
After an epic stupid struggle, we freed ourselves and joined the rest of the thrill seekers. They were floating in a little group, looking bored as Guide No. 1 climbed a tree and hung upside down from some vines. His antics were meant to be entertaining.
    My sister pointed at me and shouted, "Ha, ha! All those years in the Navy, and you can't even paddle a little boat!"
I was too exhausted for banter. Just as I was about to slide off the kayak into the cool water, Guide No. 1, tired of his tree-climbing shtick, yelled: "OK, rest period over. Time to go back."