Secrecy, Classification, and Torture (and snickerdoodles)

I understand the need for secrecy in government action sometimes. I do. Operational security can often be one of the most critical places of strength.

The Bush administration claims that the legal opinions regarding what is, and isn't torture, what is and isn't allowed or constitutional or legal regarding treatment of prisoners are matters of operational security don't even stand up to a casual critical assault. Not even close.

They claim that these things need to remain classified because they do not want the enemy to know what methods of interrogation will be used to prevent them from developing countermeasures against them.

Bullshit. The prisoners and their commanders and comrades in the field already know exactly what will be done to them. Because You're doing it to them you dumbshit!

When my unit in Vietnam crossed the borders on classified operations to harrass and inhibit activity on the Ho Chi Minh trail, the NVA, the Cambodians, the Laotians, all knew what we were doing, because WE. WERE. DOING. IT. TO. THEM. If I shot an NVA Colonel with a sniper rifle, every troop in his command knew that there was an American with a great big fucking elephant gun up in the hills. They had a dead guy with a big ass gushing hole the size of a gatorade bottle through his chest to prove it.

It was a secret from my Mom. It was a secret from the American Press. It was a secret from you.

Bush and his partners in this particular crime are very interested in keeping this from you because they do not want to be in the position of having to defend their reprehensible actions and their casual depravity when it comes to matters of simple human decency.

As to the question of what is and is not torture I humbly suggest this. Bush, Cheney, and each lawyer that defended these tactics as humane and legal each submit themselves to one week under that kind of treatment. I did. I lasted a whole 35 agonizing minutes on the waterboard. I impressed the living shit out of my pretend "captors." They called it off, not because I broke, but because they didn't want to do permanent harm to me. I held out because I knew that they would, and must, play by those rules. That, and the fact that the last time they poured the water over my face I purposely inhaled and swallowed some, making me puke all over those cocksucking bastards. I promise you that if I were to ever encounter one of them on a street, or preferably a dark alley, mayhem would ensue, even today.

Now, fuck all this. I'm heading back to the kitchen. My neice is here visiting and we're making Snickerdoodles.

UPDATE:

This post had not been up for fifteen minutes before there were two angry emails demanding the recipe for Snickerdoodles. OK.

INGREDIENTS

1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup shortening
1 1/2 cups white sugar
2 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons white sugar
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

Preheat oven to 375°.

Cream together the butter, shortening and sugar. Mix in the rest of the ingredients except for the two tablespoons of sugar and the 2 teaspoons of the cinnamon. Spoon out the dough and roll into walnut sized balls. Roll those in the mixed sugar/cinnamon and place on an ungreased cookie sheet. Bake 7-8 minutes to get a crispy on the outside chewey on the inside cookie. Remove from cookie sheet immediately. Eat just as immediately.


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