Posted By Russ Emerson on August 20, 2004 at 2:20 pm
I did not see Michelle Malkin’s appearance on Hardball last night, mainly because I can’t abide Kerry’s shrill shill Chris Matthews.
However, I’ve heard excerpts of the “interview” touching on the Swift Vets book.
I have not heard that anyone was accusing Kerry of deliberately inflicting a wound on himself in order to gain a Purple Heart and/or avoid combat duty. See the problem in that? The accusation I’ve heard is that he deliberately did something that resulted in an unintentional wound. In short, Kerry was reckless.
But in an astonishing display of the Straw Man logical fallacy, Matthews kept pounding Malkin to get her to say, yes or no, whether Kerry deliberately wounded himself to avoid combat.
If my understanding of the event in question is accurate, the technically correct answer is “no” — but that is the problem. Kerry did wound himself, albeit inadvertently. He then did claim a Purple Heart for the incident.
However, by denying the exact claim Matthews was making, without expanding on it, Malkin would have given him exactly what he wanted: a noted conservative denying a key Swift Vet claim.
The correct answer, what Malkin ought to have said, was “no, but….” Sadly, that’s too much nuance for partisan hack Matthews. Spoons has it right: Matthews is a horse’s ass.
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Posted By Russ Emerson on August 20, 2004 at 11:36 am
Once upon a time….
I was out of the Army, in college, and I met a girl… no, a young woman. Her name was Bertha Barrera. She was just a few years younger than I. We went out on a few dates, and in no time at all, I was in love. I lived just to see her every day at school. I thought about her constantly.
We went on a few more dates, but I was a clod. “Introverted” was the understatement of the year. “Socially awkward” doesn’t even begin to describe my condition. “Tongue-tied” was my usual state. I just didn’t know how to carry the relationship forward. I never figured out how to tell her exactly how I felt about her. Being a poor college student didn’t exactly help, either.
The last time I saw her was during graduation week. She had taken time off from school, so she wasn’t graduating with our class, but she was welcome at the cookout we threw to celebrate the occasion. She made a brief appearance and, as she left, she hugged me, I stammered… and she was gone.
I never saw her again.
I imagine she’s never known how I really felt. I imagine her life has gone on as most peoples’ lives do. I bet she has two kids and a dog now.
I’ve moved on, but I will always regret not being able to tell her I loved her. I will always regret that I will never be able to tell her that, to this day, part of me still loves her.
I truly hope she is happy and well in whatever she is doing now; I pray her life is good.
I can still see her face, smell her perfume. I’d give anything to see her just one more time, just to know that she’s well.
<Sigh.>
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