I know that none of us like to hear it, but it makes perfect sense that terrorist organizations brag about their victories. These are guys without cool tanks and planes on which to put their flag. They sneak around, and if they didn't tell us what they were doing, we might think that, say, people in Iraq are just driving around in Gremlins filled with gas and bad luck.

Suppose, for example, that, angered because my neighbors continually allow their dog to shit on my lawn, I decided to form the Holy Army of Dog Crap Liberators, and that one night we took a dump on their porch. If we didn't leave a note saying something like, "This is human poop, and it is here to show you that you reap what your dog sows on my lawn -- poop," they might mistake our terrorist act as an accident or emergency or something.

On the other hand, it would seem logical that you wouldn't tell anybody about your failures. Nonetheless, an Al Qaeda-related group took responsibility for firing three rockets at two US warships in the Red Sea and totally fucking whiffing.

I mean, these are warships we're talking about -- gray things hundreds of feet long and many storeys tall floating in a totally flat and featureless expanse of water. And it's not like somebody bumped their shoulder while they were aiming on the first one, but they hit on two and three. They missed three fucking times, like clockwork. They might as well just issue a press release to the world saying, "Attention World: We spent many years saving our pitiful paychecks to by three rockets, but when we got them the instructions were in Russian. We thought we could figure it out, but in the end we couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with them. You should fear us as much as random lightning strikes."

Somewhere in a cave in Tora Bora, Osama is shaking his head and mumbling to himself.

Analogcabin @ 3:23 PM
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