More Burma Warmongering

Matt Zeitlin is not bullish on the prospects of armed revolution in Burma, and he’s absolutely right not to be optimistic.  We’re talking about revolutionary group that, as of this moment, does not exist.  And as he states, institutional pressures are working against the formation of any insurgency, armed or otherwise.  Still, I can’t help thinking that violently rising up against the junta, no matter the odds against, is still more productive than marching down the street to be slaughtered for the umpteenth time.

The existence of an armed insurgency would also allow for, say, a friendly hegemon under new leadership to help out militarily.  The generals in Burma have isolated themselves from the general population by moving the capital to their new super villain-like jungle fortress.  Suddenly it’s quite easy to hit the junta without causing much in the way of civilian casualties (or at least much less than one would see if Yangon was bombed).  Of course, such a move would be pointless without an insurgency or rogue army group there to take advantage.

So let’s just say that my support for US military involvement in Burma is, to say the least, conditional.  And yes, I realize that this isn’t even going to be thought of as a valid or realistic option by most people.  But someday, somehow, someone needs to kill these fuckers.  If the Burmese are ever able or willing to attempt that themselves, backing them up is something we should at least consider.

Deploy the Matt Zeitlin tag, Number One!

Burmese, get your gun

The limits of non-violence have been reached in Burma. My advice to all opposed to the current regime is to begin storing small arms and start planning to take on Than Shwe’s army. Seriously, they’re killing/imprisoning the Buddhist monks, who were the last hope for non-violent leverage. There’s a point where you have to stop trying to reason with people and start trying to kill them (I think Matt said this originally, but I can’t find it in his archives). This is one of those times. I hate to say it, but the only way Burma is coming out of this crisis is by the opposition killing the junta and taking the country back by force.

Last Mets post, I promise

Faith and Fear in Flushing captures thing perfectly:

I never liked this team. Early on, when they were ahead of last year’s pace, I was vaguely embarrassed by this. Like a lot of us, I found myself groping for explanations, and worrying about why they left me cold. Was this the ugly side of raised expectations? Of the first stages of hegemony? Was this how being a Yankee fan began? What wasn’t to like?

But I struggled to warm to them during the spring, and when they stumbled through the summer I stopped fighting it. I let a bit of hard-earned cynicism take over, dissecting fandom like social scientists examine human attachment. I told myself that when they made the playoffs, I’d find myself liking them just fine. But then the second half of September came, with the second horrible body blow administered by the Phillies, the inept handling of the pitching staff, the idiotic displays of temper, and the repeated assheaded baseball. And finally, those horrifying quotes by Delgado and Glavine and Pedro, the astonishing admissions that yeah, the team was bored and complacent. That right there was the end of the pretending that I would change my mind.

Kos diarist Ian Reifowitz expands on the reasons for the collapse:

Minaya never replenished the bullpen after letting Bradford and Oliver go, and Sanchez didn’t get healthy. All the people he expected to help (Burgos, Joe Smith, Adkins, Mota) were awful. He traded Heath Bell and Brian Bannister (a potential fifth starter), which didn’t help. This failure by Minaya also forced Randolph to move Jorge Sosa (his fifth starter) to the bullpen, leaving the Mets vulnerable every fifth day. After a few starts by Brian Lawrence led to losses, they got help from Pelfrey, but then Randolph decided, even after Duque went down, to go with a six man rotation. This meant bringing Lawrence back in mid-September (a loss), and starting Philip Humber (another loss when Humber and bullpen couldn’t hold a 5-0 lead in the 3rd inning) in his first career start, with five games to go and a two game lead (no young starter had ever, in 100 years, had a debut that late in the season of a close race, according to Elias). The six man rotation, especially Humber’s start, were inexcusable examples of Randolph assuming he had the division won and could rest Pedro’s admittedly still recovering arm. I’m sorry, but Pedro needed to make those starts, especially the Humber start. They came up one game short. The players are another story. Hernandez referred to ‘hubris’ and ‘pride goeth before the fall’. He was referring to the Mets’ comments this week (although he may have been thinking of Bush as well). The past three weeks have been the worst sports’ fan experience of my life. My only comfort is that my team didn’t blow a 3-0 lead in a playoff series to their archrivals.

This brings me to a newfound revelation: I am fucking pissed off at this team. Now, I’ve been sad for a Mets team, I’ve been disappointed, and I’ve been angered at our situation. This is the first time I’ve actually been angry at the team itself. The last time I was this angry at a team, I changed loyalties. Obviously, that isn’t going to happen this time, but I imagine there are others who feel as I do, and I think management will have one hell of time getting us to think kindly of them ever again.

Omar, this is worse than any other disappointment in Mets history.  I hope you realize this.