Bin Laden: To Torture or Not to Torture

I recently saw Zero Dark 30 and am aware of the controversey surrounding the torture scenes in the movie.  What I saw was barely torture.

"I am not your friend. I am not going to help you.  I am going to break you."

Personally water boarding looks tame to me.  I'd do piss boarding.  Unzip, piss, swallow, repeat.

I'd stick maggots up their nose.
I'd make them watch THATS MY BOY over and over.

Whatever it took to find and kill Bin Laden.

But here is where the CIA, and the military failed.  They should have captured Bin Laden and then held him captive in a cell in some other country.

They should have put a camera in his cell and started a cable channel with 24 hour coverage.

I am a nasty fucking muppet, but I would have sewn his asshole shut and fed him oatmeal!

I would have put him in a vacant building and flew an airplane into it.

I would have flew him in an airplane and then had the pilot eject while Bin Laden was unaware.  Then watch the plane crash into a field.

This would have all been great Television.

But we snuck in, shot him once or twice and then secretly buried him at sea.

Whatever.  At least he's dead.....

or is he?

Death of a Friend: Jim

The text read, "Jim T**l died today."

I was stunned, and after a week of stress and anxiety it was the excuse I needed to start crying all over myself.

Jim was gone.  Jim is gone. 

The finality of it rivals even the hardest of cements. 
The blow to my heart, rivals the biggest heart breaks.

I hadn't been in touch with Jim during most of his cancer battle, and got updates through his brother Rob, but Jim was and is a good friend with a heart of gold.

He was an overweight, Hippie-type Dead Head, who loved his Ganj, and having a good time.

The cancer had robbed him of his robust look, and took from us a great soul.

During a viewing of The Grateful Dead Movie, I ran into his brother Rob who gave me Jim's number and told me to call him.  He said Jim would be excited to hear from me.

I tucked the number into my contact list and forgot about it.  But the times I did remember I was afraid of making that call; resisting acknowledging Jim's cancer.  I was afraid to talk about it.

In my mind, Jim would beat cancer and live to tell the tale of his struggle and to show off his weight loss.
In my mind, ignoring it would make it go away.

But the problem didn't go away.....Jim did.

In 40 short years, Jim lived and Jim died. 

His death takes me back to the death of Kelly Hayes, gone at 19.
His death forces me to acknowledge mortality.
His death makes me hurt.
His death makes me cry.
His death makes me angry.

His death has made the world a quieter, and less amusing place.
And his death dims the light in my soul just a tiny bit more.


I am sorry Jim.  I am sorry you had to suffer.  I am sorry you had to die.  I am sorry you are not here anymore, and I'm sorry I never called.

But the day after he passed I did call.  I nervously listened to his phone ring; expecting for it to go directly to voice mail, but it didn't.

I heard him speak his final words to me, "This is Jim, leave a message."

Oh Jim, there isn't enough room for the message I wanna leave you now.