In the Green Zone

This is an interesting tidbit from Richard Miniter’s firsthand report from the bombing of the Iraqi parliament:

At first, no one could decide who was in charge: the U.S. military, the Iraqi police who actually guard the members of parliament, or the men from Triple Canopy, a private security company based near Dulles Airport in Virginia.

With a bullhorn and sheer force of will, the leader of the local Triple Canopy team, a short thick man in a baseball cap, took charge.

Heavily-armed men from Triple Canopy, mostly Peruvian, escorted every one inside the building into a parking lot ringed with a 10-foot high chain-link fence. This became a holding pen. An American Triple Canopy employee told me that they suspected the bomber may have had an accomplice in the building. Therefore, everyone was going to held and searched.

In the center of the Green Zone, the people actually enforcing security are … mercenaries. Who controls them?

On Comments

Another view:

Considering that most of your respondents are surely like me, having no idea if you even read our emails, and knowing well how seldom you publish them (unless they help you make a point one way or another), I think it highly improbable that your readers vote 10-1 against comments. Comments can be moderated, you know.  And while there are many posted comments that are ignorant, uninformed, and occasionally vulgar, it is preferable, especially in ‘the blogosphere’, to have the opportuity to make a cogent and lucid point rather than dealing with an imperious blogger such as yourself.  My usual response to a ‘no comments’ blog – especially a high profile and successful one – is, What are you afraid of?  Your no comments policy is the act of a control freak, not someone willing to engage in the sometimes messy and often fractious marketplace of ideas. And, of course, I will never know if you read this one, either.

You do now.

Email of the Day

A reader writes:

Michelle Malkin, for once, does indeed have a point. My 4-year old granddaughter is African-American. I’m happy Imus is gone, but I’d be even happier to get rid of the Snoops and R. Kellys. I want my beautiful granddaughter to grow up in a world that can celebrate her loveliness without seeing her as something to be "bagged".

I should point out, however, that NRO’s triumphant list of references to nappy hair is not so impressive. The term has been used for ages by black women to describe hair whose texture makes styling a challenge. Most of the books are undoubtedly how-to manuals and helpful hints (except for "Happy To Be Nappy", my granddaughter’s favorite children’s book, which celebrates the beauty of little black girls.) Nothing at all wrong with the term – but a bunch of old white men ridiculing young women as "nappy-headed hos" on national television takes the term where it was never meant to go. I’m just grateful my granddaughter didn’t hear it.

Me too.

Vonnegut And Us

A reader writes:

Reading from this exerpt of Vonnegut’s man without a country, he ties in with many of the recent themes of your blog.  Like all true cynics (and the essential, unfortunatley subtle intellectual distinction between a cynic and a nihilist), is a love of something that, while riddled doubt and doubt’s realizations, burns more intensely than most ‘true believers.’  Cynics like Vonnegut have seen the true nature of frail human institutions, and hate the frailty but continue to love the institution.  Fundamentalists – of all stripes – decide to ignore the frailty, and as a result never  see the truth.  Vonnegut’s love for America seemed radical and very deep.  But he couldn’t help but temper that with doubt, and was unable to ignore the frailties.  That excerpt does what all great cynical writings do, build in the reader a sense of gloom but at the same time inspire a rage that motivates.  That glorious mix of exhilaration and depression.