Tuesday, May 19, 2020

fragging

It must have been during the Vietnam police action (1960's) that I first heard and took the temperature of the word "fragging." "Fragging" was the last desperate act of front-line soldiers led by gung-ho officers who were more than willing to shed their troops' blood as they searched for fame on their own behalf.

A newly-minted lieutenant sacked out in a pup tent -- one who had with recklessness sent his men into a danger he declined to join, might suddenly have his tent, sleeping bag and body ripped to shreds by an American soldier's grenade ... enough was enough! Frag the son of a bitch!

The same thing happened in WWII -- glory-seekers taken down by the very troops he had been assigned to lead.

And now, perhaps, is a good time for someone to frag U.S. President Donald Trump, a man bound and determined to shield himself from any and all criticism and simultaneously gather to him the applause he is convinced he deserves ... at the expense of others ... or, more specifically, the country he 'leads' ... and bleeds.

In other times, a farmer might take a mad dog out behind the woodshed and blow its head off. Too much blood and too much mayhem had been committed. It was time to put and end to the charade. Trump came into office vowing to "drain the swamp" of bureaucrats ... and coincidentally create his own swamp of self-serving blamelessness.

A coward.

A moral coward.

A demean-er of country.

Why anyone has failed to frag this man who lies routinely and leaves blood in his wake ... with the lap dogs of press licking up his aimless spittle ... will no one pull the pin on this mad dog?

2 comments:

  1. Careful old son. Mad dogs bite. If you see a black SUV with extra antennae on top, take the back door. Maybe leave doughnuts on the front porch as a distraction, a pot of coffee too.

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  2. Welcome home, olcharlie. I know I'm not alone in having missed you. (Convoluted, but sincere.)

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