War on Terror for Dummies

Upon the Stoa this sunny day, I will attempt, once again, to make the obscure clear, and the complex so simple, even a Democrat can get it.

This day, I will look at the roots of the War on Terror and how we became the world's de facto policeman, like it or not.

The Calendar on the wall of the Great Bar Room reads 1919. A host of people are gathered around the smashed remains of the table of France and the Lowlands. The Council of Versailles is underway. This is not really about Europe, but the roots of modern Terrorism arise from this treaty, as did the bastard seed of World War II.

A vast mandate is created in the Middle East between France and Britain to administer the corpse of the Ottoman Empire. Standing over a map, the States of Europe, fountain pen in hand, began to carve up the vast Turko-Arabic-Persian lands without regard to tribal affiliation or historical boundaries.

America, disgusted with so much going on at this Council, stomp back to their table and order dinner, complaining that Europe has borrowed so much money from them that they will never get it back. Freaking ingrates. Let them carve up the desert. What harm can it do?

Pages fall from the calendar and it is now 1921. Germany is pissed about the war reparations being placed upon them and is eating beans and rice instead of Brats and Beer.

Iraq is created out of the British Mandate with a seed government planted to solidify the country. A chair is placed at the edge of the British table for Iraq.

In 1922, Trans-Jordan is created by the British. A chair is set out for them as well as a smaller one is labeled "Israel" as a place for the world's Jews to settle. This is done because the Jews did not seem to be accepted anywhere they went, so the British felt that since the Jews had lived in that region since 3,800 B.C., then they should be allowed to return. What harm can that do? It seems only fair.

Somebody in London had not read up on their Judeo-Roman histories.

The calendar now reads 1923 and Turkey rises out of the ashes of the Ottoman funeral fire. They take a seat independent of Britain and everyone else. They eye the world with unsure eyes, not knowing how they will be accepted in the family of nations emerging from the debris of World War I.

In 1926, France creates the nation state of Lebanon, placing an independent chair and table in the room for them.

In 1928, Trans-Jordan has developed enough that the British now allow them to sit apart from the British table. The Jewish homeland is maintained and Jewish immigration from around the world has turned into a flood.

In 1929, Arabs, wandering about the bar begin to throw eggs and trash at the Jewish chair, telling him that he is not welcomed in this bar. A promise to make things unpleasant is scribbled on the table in front of them.

In 1932 the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia gets a seat and its own table. More and more Arabs are beginning to settle down into organized nation-states.

In 1933, Iraq is granted independence from Britain while at the same time, Israel has his shoes tied together and a bug slipped into his dinner by an Arab waiter.

Afghanistan is recognized in 1934 and nearly every single Jew is expelled.

1936: France grants Syria and Lebanon independence and then notices that the Arabs is the area are sporting brass knuckles with a "made in Germany" stamp on it. France tells Germany to knock it off. Germany winks at Syria and Lebanon and tells them to mug Israel the next time they go to the bathroom.

In 1937, Britain, irritated at France's inaction, shoos away the Germans from around Israel. What was their deal anyhow? Germany was working 5 jobs to pay off its debt to France and Britain, they didn't have time to play with other countries like Israel.

In the time of WWII, the Israeli portion of Trans-Jordan did its part for the British. They made sure that Turkey stayed neutral, and helped to fight Germans who had infiltrated the region. Britain encouraged Israel and told them that they may be allowed their own table at the end of the fighting.

Britain made this promise even as he lacked a shoe, a tie, three teeth, and had to make the promise by blinking through the blood that was in his eyes. See, Germany had them in a head lock and Britain was grasping at any straw they could for help. Perhaps the Jews could distract Germany long enough for Britain to break the choke hold.

Now, the calendar reads 1946 and Israel is not free yet. Britain is waffling about giving Israel its own table. Jordan has since cut off the Jews and warned them that there will be no freedom for them. Jews have continued to pour into the region to carve out a nation for their own.

On the other side of the British table, Britain is in deep discussions with France and Germany over what to do about the USSR. Israel grows impatient as it pulls a strand of noodle out of its hair. The Arabs have continued to harass and bully them at every opportunity. One day it is soup, the next day they are flicking his ear telling him that they best leave the bar and never come back.

Finally, Israel takes some mashed potato out of his ear, packs it on a spoon and catapults it into Britain's soup, splashing the white linen around their bowl. Britain looks up and yells, "Who did that!"

The Arabs back away from Israel, finger pointing the whole way. Israel leans back and points both fingers at his own chin and says, "Yo!"

The Arabs are laughing at Israel, waiting for Britain to punish them. Jordan, Syria, Egypt, Iraq, Lebanon, and Iran scoot their chairs closer to Israel and begin to menace him with forks and spoons.

Britain glares at Israel and warns them that if they disobey just one more time then there will be hell to pay.

Britain turns back to France to discuss some item when an entire goat rockets into the side of his head, sending him sprawling out of his chair.

In moments, Israel and Britain are rolling around on the top of the table, scattering bread, soup, and flinging food all over the place.

Britain seems to have the upper hand. He is bigger, stronger, and has the clear support of the crowd.

The Arabs clap their hands with glee and eye the chair that Israel has been sitting in, hoping to add that chair to their growing group of tables and chairs in the Middle East.

Israel, though outclassed had no intention of fighting fair. In short order, Israel buries a fork in the kneecap of Britain. While Britain bellows in pain, an entire ham is shoved in his mouth, cutting of the scream. Whipped cream and walnuts are crammed in Britain's ear while at the same time they pour ice water down his pants.

Angry and humiliated, Britain decides that enough is enough. There are more important things in the world to address then these upstart Jews.

Dripping gravy and whipped cream, Britain carves off the table in front of Israel's chair.

"Enjoy your freedom you rat bastards!", and storms away.

The US and the USSR immediately congratulate Israel on it's newfound freedom, each hoping to bring Israel into their political orbit (see, the Cold War was just getting underway).

As the US and USSR are shaking hands with Israel, a crowd forms all around the Israeli table, broken bottles, chains, and clubs in hand. Nation states and roaming Arabs are there, each with murder in their eyes.

The US and USSR turn to leave with a smile on their face.

"Oh, look, so many others are here to wish you well!"

Israel puts up an arm and says, "Ah, no, don't go!", even as the crowd surges around the giant frames of the US and USSR.

What a great start, the US thinks as he walks back to his table.

Israel is completely blotted from sight as the Arabs, Persians, and Egyptians pile onto Israel.

Thunder has nothing on the noise that broke out from that end of the room. If Israel thought it had a hard time with Britain, it had its hands full with the Arabs. No sooner would Israel knock down one person than two more would climb on his back. Israel was better organized and stronger than any two opponents, but the fact remained that there were so many opponents attacking at the same time.

The struggle was in doubt several times. Israel, close to going down, always seemed to stay one step ahead of the Arabs. A broken table leg, swung in desperation takes down Lebanon. Picking up Lebanon and swinging him around in rage, Israel beats down Egypt. Egypt crawls out of the pile, vomiting bile. Lebanon ends up face down over the bar. Jordan takes one to the stomach and double over into the rising knee of Israel. With a choked cry, Jordan falls backwards into the bathroom. Syria is the next to go down, a flurry of body blows causing them to double over and go down. Iraq and Iran, seeing that the fight was tipping out of control finally backed off.

Israel was battered and bloody, standing in a pile of Arabs with nothing more than blood-soaked boxer shorts.

The US came over and helped Israel put their table and chair back together. The US told the moaning and whimpering Arabs to mind their own business and leave Israel alone. The US would make sure that Israel knew how to fight and had the right equipment to protect himself.

The Arabs did not listen, instead they vowed to avenge themselves upon Israel for their humiliating defeat in a war of aggression that they themselves had started...

Over the years, Israel had the opportunity to defeat the combined power of those Arabs two more times. Each time, beating each of them to the ground and throwing their unconscious forms back on top of their chairs.

This bickering between the nations of the Middle East continued for DECADES, each seeing if they could prove to one another just how much they hated Israel...and each other. Fights broke out among the Arab nations more often than between Israel and an Arab. Iraq and Iran (old Persia) busted up the bar so badly that folks wondered if either state would survive.

As an offshoot of the Cold War, the USSR mugged Afghanistan and replaced the fellow sitting there with someone else who spoke with a Russian accent. Realizing what had happened, the US sent weapons and trainers to several Arab nations to help them get rid of the puppet pretending to sit in Afghanistan's chair.

eventually, the USSR left, but Afghanistan had trouble sitting back down in their chair as other Arabs tried to bum rush the Afghans and sit in the chair in their place. Another fight broke out.

The US then watched as Iraq, for no reason at all, punched Kuwait in the back of the head and began to kick him repeatedly.

Signing heavily, the US walked back over and grabbed Iraq by the neck and pitched him back onto his own chair. With a warning finger and glance he told him to stay put and stop causing trouble.

The US then spent time helping Kuwait and Saudi Arabia fix up their stuff.

The US could not even leave since Iraq was now beating on the smaller chairs that were tied to the Iraqi chair.

Frustrated and a bit schizophrenic, the US simply watched and warned Iraq that they better knock that crap off, swatting Iraq's hand every time he reached away from the Iraqi table, yet not having the resolve to beat the crap out of him again.

It was around this time that the US noticed a group of Arabs that called themselves "the base" began causing all sorts of trouble around the bar. They became a plague, actually. Going from table to table, laughing and shaking tables, spilling wine and beer. Sometimes, if they were ignored, they would slam the table with a sledgehammer, scattering everything around them in the process and then walk away laughing.

This went on for some time, but the US had long since become distracted by bigger things and generally paid less and less attention to the Middle East.

Allowed to grow more emboldened and powerful, this group tried to hurt the US by hitting them in the side of the head with a slingshot.

The US simply put a dressing on the injury, looked about for the source of the sling stone, and then went right back to what they were doing; completely ignoring this rowdy bunch.

Frustrated and cocky, eternally hateful of Israel, this group came up with a way to remove the protection that the US gave Israel. They would hurt the US so bad that they would be forced to abandon Israel. After that, every Jew in the world could be hunted down and killed to the last baby.

A group from "the base" whistled at the US and asked them to stop by for a minute.

Without a care, the US walked over to them, confident in his large size and overwhelming power. As the US approached, one of the Arabs got excited and pointed over the US's shoulder and yelled, "Look at that!"

When the US turned to take a look, one of the Arabs pulled out an elephant gun and pulled the trigger. The shell slammed into the US's back and left a huge, smoking hole. With a groan, the US staggered and grabbed at at table.

The Arabs began to cheer and chest bump all the way back to Afghanistan and Iraq, their recent hiding places.

The US was hurt, but not fatally. In pain and in rage, the US stood back up and slowly turned around, looking for the people who had shot him in the back. Japan shot him in the back once. Once.

Even as the Arabs partied in Kabul, a long shadow began to fall upon the Afghanistan chair. The large chair nailed to the Afghan chair lacked a proper name plate. This must be "the base" chair.

With cold fury, the US advanced on Afghanistan, the shadow deepening the closer he got.

Wondering where the sun went, Afghanistan turned around and stared into the heaving belly of the US. Craning his neck up, and up, and up, he said, "So, how are things?"

Without answering, a forearm slowly came up and with the creaking of tendons and muscles, a single index finger pointed over the Afghan shoulder at the chair filled with filthy yahoos blowing kazoos in merriment.

"Who, them? There nobody, just ignore...."

Afghanistan never got the rest of the sentence out. Huge, meaty hands grabbed him on each shoulder and simply pulled him apart into two, bloody masses. Gore spilled about the feet of the US.

"Oh crap", the Arabs yelled in chorus, and began to scatter for other parts of the bar. Boot stamping and swatting the US wadded into the area. Some Arabs were smashed flat, never to get up again, others were kicked clean out of windows.

The US hammered away even as Iraq began to trash talk. Iraq allowed several of the "base" Arabs shelter from the rampaging giant that was trashing that end of the bar.

Finally, the US dropped the last rag-doll Arab corpse to the ground and helped up the old Afghanistan that had been tied up in the corner. Leaving a wad of cash behind to help them fix up their table and chair, the US turned its eyes elsewhere.

When the US turned towards Iraq, he saw Iraq flick his thumb in his front teeth in his direction. Bad choice of actions.

The US began its slow, deliberate advance upon Iraq, crumpled cups and french fries bouncing off his chest.

The "base" fellows hid behind Iraq and whispered encouragement in his ears about how Iraq could take him, even as they opened the window to flee the fight.

The US did not even slow as he came upon Iraq. Iraq was shaking his head and denying that he had ever met a group of people calling themselves "the base".

The denial was cut short as the US gripped Iraq about the wind pipe, looked around the bar to see who was watching, and then began to punch Iraq repeatedly. For several minutes, Iraq was pounded into an unrecognizable mass.

Another Iraq stepped from the crowd to offer its support to the US. The two of them would ensure that "the base" could not cause any more trouble.

As the US was cleaning up the mess that the rest of the world had allowed to be made of the Middle East, the rest of the world was telling the US that they had over-reacted. Why be the bully that you despise? Can't you just get along with this group of clearly misunderstood Arabs?

Europe opened its arms to these mis-understood Arabs and invited them over for lunch.

One Arab urinated in Spain's coffee while another took a dump on England's dinner plate. Another took a fork and pinned Netherlands's hand to the table while telling them they were being a lousy host.

This behavior confused the Europeans who had expected to be greeted with appreciation. Nope, all out of grace and appreciation.

The US, its anger abated, decided that it had done enough in the Middle East and made to head home. Afghanistan still needed help, but the US had once again become bored with the area. No sooner had the US stepped away from Iraq, than a wine bottle was broken over Iraq's head. Now Iraq was again fighting or its life among these "mis-understood" Arabs.

So, how does this story end? I can't tell you for sure since it is still being written.

Only time will tell. The US gets distracted easily. We are hard to anger and arouse to violence, but we are quick to forgive and yell, "squirrel!".

I guess we will just have to read an update on this story next year.

Live well, everyone.

--Zavost

Christanity made easy.

From the Stoa this day I will recite the foundation of Christianity as if it had taken place in that large, mythical bar room.

For all you religious nuts out there, this is for demonstration purposes only. No heresies were committed in the act of this writing.

So, that out of the way, let us describe how this bar looks around 32 a.d. I will be compressing the events into a single day, though this will really cover a span of many years.

In this incredibly large bar there are many empires. Some large, some small. Some are old and some are new. At this time, though, there are only a few Great Powers in the world, such as Imperial Rome, China, Persia, and the Indians of the sub-continent. The minor powers generally survive at the sufferance of the great powers and to the barbarians in their regions.

In the Western portion of the bar, the scene is dominated by the Great Table of the Romans. There are many seated at this massive table. In the middle you have Rome itself, as represented by Tiberius, the heir of the purple from Octavian's long, long rule. Not yet Emperor, but thought of as "First Consul" and "Caesar", in deference to his famous Grandfather.

Others seated at this table are people that go by the name of Italia, Greece, Egypt, Syria, Britannia, Gaul, Near and Farther Spain, Sicilia, to name just a few.

At the far Eastern end of this Roman table, sat Judea, as represented by Pontius Pilatus, or Pontius Pilate in English. He ruled that seat under the auspices of Tiberius himself, as Senators and Generals were not permitted in Egypt or Judea.

Tied to Pilate's chair were several smaller chairs bearing the name of Jews, Aramaic, Nazarenes, Galilee, to name but a few. Recently, a new chair had appeared with the name Christians, or Followers of Christ. Sitting in this chair was a bronze complected Jew that went by the name of Jesus.

Now, Pilate had watched Jesus for some time and found him to be a rather curious fellow. He drank milk and water. Sometimes wine, but always in moderation. He ate sparingly at the table and was, for all purposes, a model Roman provincial. He paid his taxes on time, as did his followers. He followed Roman Laws, as did his followers, and he even suspected, based on his somewhat non-Jewish appearance, that he had a Roman father. Curious.

One day, Pilate overheard an argument between the Jews, as represented by Herod and his High Priest. Herod and the Priest did all the yelling while the responses of Jesus were drowned out in the noise. This forced Pilate to move closer to the disturbance so that he could settle the issue if the argument concerned Roman rule.

It turns out the Herod and the Priest were angry that Jesus was pulling followers away from the Jewish faith. They were beginning to follow Jesus in ever increasing numbers. They were also shouting that Jesus was teaching nonsense to the Jewish people. Saying that they did not need to purchase animals from the money-changers to make sacrifices to the Jewish God. Other non-sense about how God is within everyone and Jesus was the Key to salvation and all that.

Boy, the veins on Herod sure were bulging.

Pilate lost interest since this looked like an internal Provincial matter. Rome was strong because it let the savage little provinces run their own daily affairs while Pilate concentrated on the "big picture" of provincial rule. Let the little folks have their single, rather poor god. Let them bicker about the irrelevant trivia of their religion.

A loud noise caught Pilates' attention as the Priest slapped Jesus hard in the face. Hard enough to make Pilate jump in his seat. Expecting a brawl to break out, he reached for his scepter of rule. Instead of a brawl breaking out, Jesus looked back at the priest an actually turned the uninjured cheek towards the priest and offered it up for a second blow.

Angry, the Priest sat back down. Pilate let the scepter return to his side while he took a pull from his goblet of wine, watching the priest with narrow eyelids.

No sooner had he returned to his meal when there was a tug on his shoulder. It was the little Jew-priest again. "Jesus and his followers are not paying their taxes! He is teaching his people that only the world beyond matters and that taxes are a distraction from God."

Pilate leaned over and looked a Jesus, sitting quietly in his seat, holding a cold beer to his left cheek. "What do you have to say for yourself, Jesus?"

Alternating between sipping the beer and holding it to his face, he said, "Render onto Caesar what is Caesars. Render onto God what is God's."

Pilate thought about this for a moment and then shushed and shooed the filthily little barbarian priest away from his chair.

Hardly had Pilate eaten more than half of his meal the little barbarian priest was again tugging at Pilates' arm.

"Jesus plots rebellion against Rome itself!", flecks of chicken and flat bread speckled the Priest's unkempt beard.

Looking back over at Jesus he saw a shaft of light coming through an window in the roof, illuminating Jesus and framing him in brilliance. He could not be sure, but he thought he saw Doves resting upon his shoulders. The Doves were polite and were not even soiling Jesus' robes. He even saw Jesus wrapping a bandage round a Cat's paw. The Cat did not show any interest in the Doves and only looked adoringly at Jesus.

A cricket sang somewhere in the distance.

Pilate ran his tongue over his teeth and sat back in his chair. "Riiight, that guy is plotting an armed insurrection against Rome? Doubtful."

Again, he shooed the filthily little creep away from his chair. He had to keep brushing off the dirt and dust from his sleeve every time that Cretan touched him.

Some little time passed and then both Herod and the Priest flanked Pilate. With alternating tugs on his tunic sleeve, Herod and the Priest began to hassle Pilate.

"His people break Jewish customs." "He eats unclean animals." "He seeks to replace us and rebel against Roman rule." "We will cause trouble for you if Jesus is not punished." "We will petition Rome to take kill Jesus as a Rebel if you don't do anything".

With his head pivoting from side to side at Herod and the Priest, the last two items caught Pilates' attention. No one went over his head to Rome. No one.

A sharp conversation passed between the three of them finally. There were still more Jews than Christians and if Pilate did not put down this Jewish Heresy, then the Jews would put it down for Rome. This would mean economic disruption and an image seen in Rome of a Prelate that could not administer even a small, dusty and unimportant Province of Rome.

Even though this was technically and internal cultural matter and beyond the scope of Roman rules, Pilate knew he had to do something. Treacherous Jews. Who knew they were so devious?

Pilate was an experience administrator of Rome. He had travelled the known Roman world and knew that religious zealots like this popped up from time to time. He also knew that killing the messenger was far, far easier than killing the message.

Pilate was a professional and he knew from experience that if you kill a charismatic religious icon then all you were doing was creating both a martyr and myth to the cause. Other, less scrupulous people would usurp that power and put it to uses that would not favor Roman interests at all.

Yet, he could not deny what these Jewish barbarians demanded of him. Jesus was going to have to go.

With a snap of the fingers and a gesture with his scepter, two Roman Centurions came out from behind the bar and flanked Jesus.

Herod and the Priest beamed with pleasure and laughed openly at Jesus.

With a gesture he, Pilate stated, "Scourge and Execute this man."

As the Centurions grabbed Jesus by the elbows and began to drag him away, Jesus said to the shaft of light coming through the roof, "Forgive them Father for they know not what they do."

Pilate sat down angrily and kicked Herod in the butt, sending him cackling and giggling to the floor near his chair. A fierce look was all it took to send the Priest scurrying back to his chair.

Pilate knew all to well what he was doing and he hated himself for it. Not that he was sending an innocent man to his death, heck no, he sent a dozen people like that to the cross every day before lunch, but it was that he was turning this man into a martyr.

He chewed silently on his food even as the sounds of a whip began to resonate from behind the bar. No, sir, this was not going to end well at all.

Oh, how he could not foresee what was starting here with that single gesture. A following that would continue to grow and endure for more than two millennia.

So in the end, Pilate shoved his plate aside just as they drug Jesus back into the main room. His flesh had been flayed from his bones in places. Thorns had been crammed upon his naked forehead. Blood and fluids literally oozed from him and drained upon the floor.

The two little Jewish savages continued to cackle and high five each other, secure in the reality that their little money-making racket could continue on the side without this person interfering with their profits.

Pilate watched as this man who preached nothing but non-violent peace and love for all mankind, regardless of sex or nationality was nailed to the cross-pole in of the bar's ceiling.

Pilate could not be sure but he thought he heard Jesus forgive him with his few remaining breaths. Odd fellow, this Jesus.

Pilate was right of course. He did create a martyr. A movement that would claim the soul of future Emperors had been created.

The Jews continued to flex their muscle, now that they knew that they could manipulate Roman Prelates to get what they wanted.

Eventually they shoved a Prelate to demand more religious benefits and the Prelate pouched him out. The Jew sprang up and began hit the Prelate with a chair. In no time at all, Rome himself came down to that end of the table and hammered the Jews straight to the floor. There was so much refuse on the floor when Rome was done that he had to scrape his sandals clean.

A few short decades later and the Jews were at it again. This time, Rome smashed the Jews, as before, but instead of sitting them back down at the table, Rome broke up the chair and threw it in the fire. He kicked the Jews from Judea and told them never to come back. Head off to Germany, maybe they would take you, Rome said.

There you have it. The founding of Christianity and the scattering of the Jews.

Hard to make something this serious sound funny, but I gave it a shot.

Live well.

--Zavost

Civil War Bar Room, by Request

From atop the Stoa this day, I don the blue slouch cap of a Michigan regiment for the Union in the Civil war. Not the Confederate gray of Virginia, my new home.

Yes, it is time for another installment history, as seen on the set of a vast bar room, complete with whiskey and women.

So here we go. This will be bloody.

We fast forward about 100 years from the beginning of the Revolutionary Bar Room. The world is not a whole lot different in 1850 then it was in 1750. Great Britain is still great. France is still a world power, though in an obvious state of decline. Napoleon is long dead and Napoleon III is a far cry from his great uncle's abilities.

Austria-Hungary is still a major player, though the rebellions of 1848 have shown the world that it is hardly a stable or safe place to live. Ditto for Russia. The Ottoman Turks are in a free-fall of decline. Their weapons and economy better suited for a Medieval fair than the real world.

The United States has been growing into a precocious young man. Tall, strong, cocky. He pounded Mexico, no PILE-DRIVED Mexico into the dirt and seized vast tracks of land just a few short years ago. Canada understood where it was in relation to the new power to the South. It certainly was not 1777 or 1813 anymore. Populous and Industrial, the US was a force to be reckoned with on the world stage.

So, we find the US at a large table, spread over a large corner of the bar. It is somewhat broken up by region. There is a Northern part of the table, comprised of 16 States in the North, 11 States in the South, and 3 States in the West. In the middle were the Territories.

The North is a busy place. Immigrants pouring in from a sucky European homeland, eager for the fresh start offered by the US. Massive factories and industries are located in the North. The largest harbors and shipping sites for both rail and ocean shipping are located here. Busy and cold, the North was full of hardy folk.

The South was more agrarian, slower paced, and accepting of slave labor. Most of the Southern State's chairs had many, many people tied by a leash to them. In the North, immigrants provided the cheap labor needed in the factories. In the South, slaves provided virtually FREE labor to their plantations and factories.

The West was more interested in Gold than anything else. Gold and trade. We'll get back to them in a while.

Slavery was a big issue between the States seated at that table. The Northern States did not use slavery and never really did since the colonial days. They were also unhappy with having to compete with Southern companies that used slave labor since that meant they could undercut Northern products on price.

Again, the West is crouching down under the table panning for gold in the liquids running out of the bathroom. Lets hope they don't find anything...

Many of the history books get it wrong and say that this was ALL about slavery. It was not. It was as much about economics and political freedom as it was about slavery.

See, since 1787, a Federal Government was formed. The US was actually the accumulated strengths of its then 24 States. The Feds or US, coordinated the actions between the states and represented the states as a whole on the international level.

This worked great for a long time, but anytime you create a government, the only thing it ever wants to do is to grow and become more centralized. It wants to control that which it can not control.

In the North, things were busy and complex and generally, a centralizing government was a good thing. Litigation, immigration, taxation, transit taxes, you name it, the Feds assisted in coordinating.

In the South they resented this. Each State was quite comfortable about setting its own rules and codes of conduct. The North told the South to get rid of slave because it was immoral. Really, it was because of the economics of slave labor. The Southern States resented this. The Feds told the South what to do on a wide variety of things, all of which, on principle alone, were resented by the South.

Even good ideas caused resentment. They felt that the Central Government was exceeding its Constitutionally limited powers; and perhaps it was, in principle.

The election of 1860 was important in that is saw the dissolution of the Whigs and the rise of the GOP. It also saw the first GOP president in one Abraham Lincoln.

The South had felt, for a long time, that the Feds were over reaching in their influence and talked about leaving the United States Union. The Constitution did not provide for any State to leave and the North read the Constitution literally.

This was no gentleman's club that you could opt out of. Get rid of the Slaves and compete on even ground, or else.

Lincoln supported the "or else" clause of the Constitution.

So when everyone sitting around the table said, "Who will be President?" and all the hands pointed here an there.

Of course, since there were 19 "Northern" states and only 11 "Southern" states, it was the North who selected the President. Hello, Mr. Lincoln.

South Carolina was the first to congratulate Mr. Lincoln. They threw a shoe, a chamber pot, and a chair at him. This was followed by Virginia flipping their table over and pulling a gun out.

West Virginia pulled away from his brother and sided with the North. Ah, brother fighting brother.

In short order, other Southern states began to flip over their tables and charge their Northern counterparts. A huge brawl broke out and the South showed just how scrappy it could be. Maryland went down under a pile of Virginian, South and North Carolinian fists. Pennsylvania had his pants pulled down, his shirt pulled up over his head and then had an atomic wedgie performed upon them.

The North did not seem very prepared for this. For quite some time all they could do was to hold off their Southern cousins. Knee biting, crotching, and eye poking were the rule of the day.

The West looked up from their panning, looked back down and threw up a fist and pumped it. "We're with you, Yankees!", and then went back to panning.

Britain, looking for a way to break up the US after being humiliated by them twice in the last 80 years, began to court the southern states.

He wandered around the fight and whispered at some of the Southern States. He told them that if they won their fight, then Britain would be their very good friend. They would recognize them and help to protect them from the big, bad, north.

The Northern states promptly blockaded the South to keep Britain from slipping the Southerners any weapons or money. Several of the Northern States took a break from throwing beer bottles at the South to first eye Britain and then flip them off.

France was not quiet at this time either. Anxious to bring Mexico back into the French table, they too began to hover. They menaced a bruised and beaten Mexico, still hurt from the thrashing they received a few years earlier. It looked l like the Monroe Doctrine was going to be used for Toilet paper and that Mexico was going to become a slave colony to France. Europe was salivating over a broken and humiliated United States. Oh, what a different world it would have been.

Eventually, the North, realizing that it outclassed the South in every category from height (a full 2 feet!), reach, and punching power, began to get serious.

With a single hand, Virginia was pulled off Pennsylvania's back by several northern states and thrown head first onto the bar, smashing whiskey bottles the whole way.

Mississippi and Louisiana were knocked senseless by Indiana and Iowa. Then, a group of Northerners began to wade in amongst the most Southern of States. In quick succession, Tennessee had a pool stick broken across the bridge of its nose and he went down. A boot to the throat of Alabama put them down. Georgia, oh my God, poor Georgia. I almost can not write about them. As Alabama went down, Georgia mooned Indiana, Michigan, and Ohio out of some insane spite. New York was there too, I believe. They all tore into Georgia like a monkey on a cupcake. Screaming, yelling and blood chilling cries came from the bottom of that pile.

Jeans, a shirt, a shoe, and a spleen flew from the pile, the spleen hitting the window of the bar and slid, squeaking to the floor. Florida tried to come to Georgia's aid but a salt shaker first hit them on the bridge of the nose and then a serving tray was bent over his head. He crawled away from the fight and hoped it would pass by him.

After Georgia was left twitching in the fetal position, the Northern Gang proceeded to pound the grits out of South Carolina. They started it all, anyhow. Man, the screams still echo out in the street. With a boot print on the back of South Carolina's head, it was the turn of North Carolina.

North Carolina put up both hands and yelled, "No Mas!" but to no avail. The Yankees tore him down as badly as they did South Carolina.

Virginia was backed into a corner and was eventually put into a headlock by several Northern States. A huge bowie knife was pointed at the nether regions of Virginia by the Yankees that where still dripping blood and hair from their last set of victims.

Even Virginia knew the fight was over. California and the other Western States rebuffed every attempt a joining the South. Frankly, if they weren't drunk they were looking for gold. Sometimes they even looked for gold while drunk.

Virginia surrendered and the table began to be re-knit. It was the worst fight that the US had ever been in. Ever. No other fight before or since had caused so much blood to be shed.

England ran back across the room at high speed, bottles and knives in pursuit. France began to whistle and wander back to their part of the bar, hands in their pockets, when confronted with a huffing and puffing Northern Gang standing behind Mexico. My, did France look small.

It was not until Spain decided to poke the bear that the US got involved again in 1898. Southern States and Northern States bonded as only war can bond a people. It felt good to have their fingers in the a full head of Spanish hair. They bounced and punted Spain from one end of the bar to the other all night. We were ready for WWI, now.

In reality, France and Britain were terrified of this resurgent US. More than 3 Million battle trained veterans now stood on American soil. Canada and Mexico remained free of US soldiers only because we chose to leave them free.

We had more men under arms than the entire standing armies of Europe AND their reserves. Even the Grand Army of Napoleon was 1/3rd the size of our military. No sir, no one wanted to mess with that US. Better to wait until he got flabby and bored with the world and then start to cause some trouble.

So, there you go. The Civil War in a nutshell. All those casualties. In the sense of Slavery, it was a win. Everyone was now free. In the sense of State's Rights, everyone lost. The over-reaching Federal Government of today traces it roots back to the victory of the North over the South.

States rights ARE and CAN be limited beyond the scope of the Constitution. I know what the document SAYS, but I can also read all the Civil War monuments scattered around the North and the South. They will listen to the Central Government or they will pay a price in either liberties, wealth, or war.

Live well.

--Zavost.

You Dare, Newt!

From high atop the Stoa this day, I take umbrage with many of the GOP candidates.

First, is Mr. Newt Gingrich. I heard Mr. Gingrich say one of the MOST idiotic things to come from a "conservative" in a very long time. He described Mr. Romney's actions while working a firm 18 years ago as "Looting". In the 1980's they were called "Corporate Raiders" and they performed and still DO perform a vital service in a Free Market economy.

Now, people tell me over and over that Newt is sooooo smart and all, but to say that Mitt "looted" businesses in the name of profit tells me that he is either grandstanding for a Populist stump or he is ignorant of Free Market practices.

Let me be very simple here for everyone, in case you forgot what has made this country great, well from 1787 to about the 1980's.

Mitt was a businessman and not a politician. Therefore the only people he had to please were his Board of Directors and his Shareholders. You know, Shareholders. They are the ones that put their money into a company in the hopes that they will make AS MUCH PROFIT as possible on that money. The money they invest in a company provide needed capital to purchase equipment and hire labor. If Mitts job was to "acquire" other companies for their portfolio then I'd expect him to acquire them for one of several reasons: a) that company provides a service for cheaper than it could cost the parent company to develop...and make a profit. b) that company is a competitor and it would be cheaper to acquire then to compete. c) that company possesses patents and intellectual property that the parent company needs to develop new products or services. OR d) the company is all of the above and is "excess" capacity in the market place. Purchasing the assets and then breaking up the company, i.e. LOOTING, will bring in revenue, eliminate competition, and bring in valuable talent and patents.

It is the most efficient use of the national labor pool by ensuring that talent has the ability to go where it will be put to best use. Material resources will be put to the most efficient use as well. This is Economics 101 here folks.

There is nothing at all wrong with what Mitt did there. The strong survive and the weak perish. Period. Those employees who have lost their jobs may find new work in the parent company, they may find new work in other entities within their field, or they may retire. It is also possible that they will retrain into a more useful job field. Heck, they may even take this as a sign to become their own BOSS and perhaps get bought out by someone else and make a ton of money.

It is all good in the end. Life is not easy and life does not come with guarantees. Get used to it.

Newt, for as smart as you are I can not condone the idea that government, in ANY WAY can set the profit goals for any Private Industry. Period. The government has other things to worry about then how much money someone makes or how much profit a company makes. For the love of all that is Holy, can you see that, Newt!

Be at least a little conservative will ya? Step away from Mr. Obama...I want to see some daylight between your position and his, got it?

I'm certainly not a Romney fan. He has MANY flaws that make him rotten fruit for me. However, in this case, Newt needs to get a clue and remember what made this country great. It certainly was not measured by some pinhead in D.C.

Live well.

--Zavost

Revolutionary War Bar Scene

Upon the Stoa this night I must discuss the Revolutionary War as if it were between people in a bar. This should be interesting.

Ok, so we are turning the clock back about another 165 years to 1750. The United States has yet to be born. Britain and France are the major powers in the world at this time. Germany and Italy are both patchworks of smaller nations, squabbling and warring upon one another.

What will become the United States are 13 colonies that are seated at the Great British table. The British have been gathering colonies and nations to its table for quite some time in an attempt to have both more friends and a bigger table than France.

The Spanish are old and enfeebled while the Ottoman Turks are at the height of their vigor, never to have more power than they had at the gates of Vienna.

The British and the French had brawled and fought off and on for decades and decades. Currently they are locked into a vicious arm wrestling match with daggers pointed up from the surface of the table below their hands. Their proxies, the lesser people at their tables have been fighting the hardest, trying to pull one another to different parts of the bar and to force them to sit at other tables.

The colonies, especially Virginia, New York, and Massachusetts were eager to show their loyalty to Britain and sit closer to the head of the table. They took extra classes in warfare and polished up on their knife fighting. Heck, they even pulled on the leashes of the Indians tied to their chairs and asked them for some pointers on how to fight the French and their Indian allies that caused so much trouble.

Britain, however, looked down on the "Colonials" as much as the Colonies looked down upon their Indian allies. Britain felt that the "children" that sat at his table lacked the sophistication and education to properly fight the French on their terms and relegated the "provincials" to scouting and Indian fighting. This did not sit well with Colonies who felt that they were every bit the equal of the British.

By 1753, the colonial states had successfully beaten or bullied the Indians that were allied with the French. Tying some of them up the various colonial chairs at the British Great Table, others they threw out of the bar. A few, they threw out of second floor windows.

By all accounts, the "provincials" did a great job. The bar tab was high, though. The French did not go down easy, the fight at the bigger table was nasty and wrecked the place a great deal. The fighting in the corner did not involve the Great Powers that much. Most of it fought by proxies, such as the colonies and the Indians.

Britain did not have the money to pay off this tab, despite adding many new chairs to its table. In fact, it found that all these new people sitting at their table were actually COSTING him more money. No sir, this could not last.

So, to help pay down this bill, Britain was going to take a more active role in the personal finances of everyone who sat at his table. First, he was going to make it more expensive to sit at this table. Also, you had no choice to BUT to sit at his table. Each member was going to have to pay more for protection and personal defense.

The Colonies lived in a spacious, undeveloped area and were able to grow their income every year, however, what really began to happen was that Britain continued to make it more and more expensive to sit at the table. The Colonies were even told one day that they could not PRODUCE anything. If they chopped down a tree and wanted to make a piano out of it, they were forbidden from making that piano. Instead, they had to ship the wood to Britain where they would make the piano and the colony would then buy the finished product.

Well, hell, it was always cheaper to make it yourself then to buy it from someone who lived so far away. They could not even make their own shoes, for crying out loud.

Sticking around with the British was beginning to get onerous and the colonies began to talk about making their own table. Britain sat wwaaaayyyy over there and the colonies got sick of supporting his fat butt while he called the colonies lazy and unsophisticated.

Some of the colonies thought it was a good idea to make their own table. There was plenty of wood around. Wood they could chop, and plenty of smashed tables and chairs from the recent brawl. Others felt that Britain had done good by them and that they owed it to Britain to remain loyal in the face of so many enemies.

Now we are at 1773 and Britain is really needing more cash to pay off its growing commitments. The number of chairs at the table continued to grow and it always took time for the money to come with the new chair. The richest people at the table were the colonies, so Britain began to tax everything from the nails in their shoes to the tea they drank.

Enough was enough. The colonies, despite their misgivings of loyalty, began to complain louder and louder to Britain. Instead of paying attention to the colonies, he told them to shut up and get back to work. He was hungry and had more bills to pay.

Britain may have been dismissive but he was not stupid. One day, he went to the Massachusetts colony and told them to hand over all their guns. He trusted them, of course, but they didn't really need all those guns since HE was there to protect them from all their enemies.

Needless to say, Massachusetts disagreed. Even as Britain tried to yank the gun from Massachusetts' hands, the gun went off. To this day, no one knows if Massachusetts pulled the trigger or if Britain accidentally fired their own gun.

The damage was done. After Britain wiped off the burnt black powder from his face, picked up the dented crown and looked for his collar button that had been blown off; he pointed a finger at Massachusetts and said, "You know of course, this means war!"

Even those that did not want to fight with Britain knew that they had to defend themselves. Canada, created after the last great fight, was a great friend of Britain, and the Northern Colonies watched him closely.

Each side began to line up their allies. The Canada and their Indians. Britain and their Indians. The colonies and their Indians. The Colonies even began to ask the major powers of Europe if they would like to help them in their bid for freedom from the table of Britain.

All of the powers thought that the Colonies were very naive to think that they would help them. If they helped bust up Britain like that, who is to say that others may seek to break up their great tables? Heck, no, colonies, you are on your own.

New York, ready for a scrap, charged North at Canada. They were going to knock them out of the fight quickly and make them join the colonial table. New York rounded the bar, out of sight of the rest. A great commotion took place with chairs and bottles smashing all over the place.

Finally, after one last crash, New York comes back, limping and bleeding. His nose is broken, both eyes are blacked, and a shoe is missing. The left one, I believe.

From behind the bar they hear, "knock it off, eh?"

New York tells everyone else to shut up and begins wipe the blood off his face.

Since Britain still had enemies in the European part of the bar, they wanted to stay close to home. Instead of coming directly at the Colonies, they instead paid the German state of Hesse to bust us up.

The German state was scrappy, all right. It came in, hat cocked forward and yelled, "Wir sind hier zu stampfen Sie!"

They began stomping through New York, Pennsylvania, and Delaware. Generally causing a ruckus and being a pain in their collective butts. They never were able to pin any of those colonies into a decisive fight, though. They would come in, sometimes at night, and wreck up the place. Then they would march out to fight. We would snipe at them from the trees. They would yell at us to fight like men.

We would say you are a stupid man to stand there in the open and get shot at like that.

The colonies would then dodge and weave from table to table, hiding behind one another while a third colony would poke the Hessians with a fork in the behind. This went on for some time until the Hessians started busting up New Jersey. That night, after New Jersey had been spanked and roughed up a bit for flipping of Britain, the Hessians partied. They drank as only Germans can drink while being paid to rip up someone else's house.

Several of the Colonies got together that night, in the cold snow and ice, with the intent of de-panting the Hessians. One panty raid later and the Hessians were standing in their long johns, freezing. The Colonies taunting them from across the river with their pants held high, fluttering in the breeze upon a bayonet.

Embarrassed, many of the Hessians decided to give up the fight and simply live with the colonies.

Britain, ticked off about spending all that money and still having to put up with the taunts from across the bar, decided to get nasty. Britain pulled up his pants, wiped the meat juices from his chins and began to move towards the ramshackle and shoddy Colonial tables.

The French, amused at all the consternation the colonies were causing the British decided to follow close over the British shoulder to see for himself.

The porkulent British ruler shouted at the colonies during the entire walk over. He attempted to grab one colony while kicking another. He missed both. Tripping, he accidentally sat on New York. New York squealed under the weight of Britain, but the other colonies could do nothing. Instead, they did the same thing with Britain that they did with Hesse.

The colonies ran amok, running this way and that while Britain huffed and puffed in pursuit. Occasionally, he would clip one of the colonies and send them spinning, but for the most part, Britain continued to run all over the place while the French rolled around on the floor laughing themselves silly. Their great adversary being humiliated by a bunch of children running willy nilly about the bar. What a MAROON!

New York, unable to roll out from under the box lunch that Britain had left behind on his back, yelled for help. The Southern Colonies jabbed a pitchfork in Britain's butt, which got his attention in a big way.

South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia started to get roughed up by a highly irate Britain.

The burst of energy from Britain took its toll, however. Panting, red-faced, and facing a serious sugar crash, Britain began to take one jab after another from the Colonies. They were not running any longer.

Punch after punch, knee cap after knee cap, the colonials began to make Britain sting. Then, finally, Britain tries to punch out Virginia with one final haymaker blow. Swinging wildly, Virginia ducks and punts Britain in the crotch.

France, deciding to get involved in all the fun, kneels down behind Britain while the Colonials give Britain one final shove.

Britain falls backwards, over France's back, and into the bowl of Sour Cream and Onion chip dip. For good measure, France blows his nose and throws the tissue upon Britain. France was laughing so hard they were practically crying. Thus the runny nose, and thus the tissue upon Britain.

Embarrassed and salty, Britain throws up his arms and yells, "Fine" and then limps away, trailing chip dip and waving his hand, frantically trying to get the tissue off his hand.

The US makes one big table of its own by nailing all the smaller tables together. Over time, they plan on enlarging the table and making it out of better, stronger wood. They thank France and wish them well.

France, still chuckling at Britain's misfortune, wipes a tear out of one eye. Upon returning the tissue to his pocket he notices several people at his table. They are holding axes and torches. One fellow stands near a scaffold with a huge blade at the top, slowing curling his index finger at France, "come on...come on home...". His name plate read Rob S. Pierre.

He seemed like a nice fellow, though France could not restrain an involuntary gulp of the throat.

The US, still waving at France turns around to begin work on their new table, even as a loud "chink, whomp, thump, thump, thump" comes from France's table. Something shadowy rolling away under another table.

So, there you go. France loses out, just as the major powers thought would happen if they got involved. Britain was humiliated and tried again in 1812 to bring the "colonials" to heel, with similar results, though. France played a big part in that story also.

I wonder which period in history the little tyrant will have me write about next.

Obama is rolling up the Constitution and smoking weed with it. The FCC is going to start putting names with everyone on the Internet, nothing to worry about there. Obama gets the right to imprison anyone for anything as long as HE feels they are a danger to national security and my daughter has me writing fluff.

Well, it is more fun to write fluff anyhow. I just have to hope that there is a beer bottle with Obama's name on it in the next brawl. Unfortunately, the GOP contenders are pigmies. Guess we'll see this November.

Live well.

--Zavost

WWI bar scene

Upon the Stoa this night, I once again bend to the will my exuberant daughter. The WWII bar room scene has forced me to make one on WWI, modern news, the American Civil War, heck, whatever she can come up with. I must bend to her will, or be dragged into a black pit of insanity.

I might as well write some fluff while the timbers of society creak and sway about me.

Ok, so, we will turn back the clock from the WWII bar room. We'll turn it back and reset the scene.

It is 1914, early. The Austro-Hungarian Empire has been around in one form or another for centuries. He has several smaller nations at his table, not all of them willing. The loudest and most boisterous of them was named Serbia. He resented the influence that the bigger cousin exercised upon him and his friends, Croatia and Slovenia. The other cousins wanted to be free as well, but they could not work up the courage to make a run for the other side of the bar. Austria made them sit at his table and would not let them move around much.

In this large room, Germany stands at the bar, drinking a large stein of beer and scarfing down brats. Austria stands nearby, speaking friendly to Germany while furrowed brows and steely eyes glared over at Serbia.

Austria was glaring because Serbia was leaning back in his chair to chat with Russia and the Ottoman Turks. That combination never sat well with Austria, though Germany told him that the Turks meant well. It was the Russians to keep an eye on. Yes, those Russians were not to be trusted.

France was at a table drinking Chardonnay and eating cheese. Confident in its wealth, power, and prestige despite being punched out by Germany 25 years earlier. A minor disagreement settled by a crushing French loss at the hands of Germany.

Great Britain sat in a large booth, friends and debtors gathered all around. He was confident in his Empire of friends and associates. He had not a care in the world. Great Britain was still so large that the Sun never sat completely on any of his lands.

The United States had a stalk of wheat being sucked on gently between two teeth. Feet kicked up, hat pulled down over his eyes. He nursed a beer and relaxed after a hard day's work in the fields and factories. Canada sat with the US, but looked lovingly over at Great Britain. Ditto for Australia. Good old Australia. Always ready for a fight they could only ever help with, but never fight alone. They had more in common with the US than Great Britain, but they were in Britain's family nonetheless.

Russia; huge, hulking, backward Russia. He sat at a large table all by himself, trying to regale other countries with his wealth and sophistication. The problem with Russia was that he was so big he could crush you by accident and dumb enough not to even notice. Russia just wanted to be taken seriously, to be thought of as an equal among peers within the bar. Not many people paid him much attention.

Nearby sat the Ottoman Turks. Old, wheezing, and in debt to many people in the bar, they relied on Germany to help them make ends meet. Not many sat at their table, though, and most of those really did not want to be there. Russia was always calling over to people like Persia and Egypt, promising them riches if they'd come sit with him. No, the Turks did not like Russia at all.

Things had been steady in the bar for years. The last great dust-up had been 12 years earlier when the US accused Spain of being a bully and beat them down. Spain now sat virtually alone at the bar, drinking shots and remembering their past greatness.

One day, things changed rather quickly. That morning, there was tension in the air. No one new what, but everyone knew something was going to happen. The only one who didn't care was the US, sucking on the stalk and whistling quietly to himself.

People began to look about and affirm their friendships in case anyone started a fight. Austria looked to Germany with a wink and a nod. Germany winked back. France looked over at Britain and Britain gave France a thumb's up sign. The Turks asked for more help from Germany which they were then granted. Russia reminded Serbia that they were their "Big Brother" and that they didn't need to put up with Austrian oppression. France and Britain reminded Russia that they were his friends and to please not pick a fight.

Italy went around the room reminding everyone that he was their friend, though he did not get much attention.

The wait staff went from table to table, passing messages and handing out food, hoping for the best.

The fateful moment came when Serbia leaned over to tell Austria something. He spoke too quietly to be heard, so Austria had to really lean over to hear. Without warning, Serbia buried a knife in Austria's neck, wounding him terribly. The wound was not fatal and with a roar of anger, Austria punched Serbia straight out if his chair. Austria then began to savagely beat Serbia without relent. Russia leapt upon Austria and bore him to the ground, kidney punching and head butting. Germany reached down and began to pry Russia off of Austria and then broke a chair over Russia's head when the prying failed.

France and Britain looked at each other and then leapt to hit Germany from behind. Germany was waiting for that and beat them both down with the back swing of a chair. Italy attacked Austria and Turkey attacked Russia. Japan declared that they were part of the fight and then began to beat up Germany's friends in Asia.

The center of the bar looked like a mosh pit of flailing arms, beer bottles, and shoes arching gracefully out of the melee.

The US ducked as a bottle flew over head, but otherwise acted as if nothing were going on.

It was not long before the fight broke up most of the bar. It seemed as if everyone had lost their minds over...what was this fight about? No one seemed to know why and no one seemed inclined to stop throwing punches and kicks either.

Austria and Russia continued to trade blows while Turkey nipped at Russia's flank, irritating him. Serbia was out cold under a broken chair with an order of fries being ground into his hair as the fighting raged about.

The fight went on and on and on. Brutal and without quarter being given. Beer, blood, and brats soaked the floor and matted the Serbs who remained out cold.

The British, Canadians and Australians tried to knock out the Turks but found the old man not as helpless as they thought. The Turks beat them senseless as they charged straight at him. Bleeding badly, the three withdrew. Australia looked over at the US asked when they were going to join.

The US absently waved a hand in the air and went back to humming a melody.

Germany continued to beat on Russia, France and Britain with surprising ferocity and skill. This one country not only did not go down, but continued to knock all three of them about when he focused on one opponent.

Italy, France, Britain, and Russia were fading. Germany was panting, but otherwise still ready to fight. Austria was making odd noises. Wheezing and gulping, some wondered if Austria had been struck a deeper blow by Serbia then had been first thought. The Turks still had their hackles up and kept swatting at the British who had never stopped harassing them.

Then, quite unexpectedly, a note turns up. Britain, while scuffling with Germany, kicks a letter that had fallen out of Germany's pocket. The letter skids across the floor and ends up near the US.

Since his foot was going numb from being kept high on the table, the US let his foot down and saw the note. It was addressed to Mexico, from Germany.

With some interest, the US unfolded the note. The note said in part: "Hey, Mexico. If you help us out by attacking the US, we will make sure that you get all the guns, ammunition, and support you need. We will make sure that you get most of the territory back that you lost in 1846 and 1848. Also, we'd be really grateful if you could help broker an alliance between us and the Japanese. They seem like swell folks. Your friend, Germany XOXO"

The US's eyebrows rose and knitted together in irritation as he read on. The US had overlooked the sinking of its ships by "accident" by Germany, the US had even sold less equipment to Britain then it intended, hoping to remain neutral in this mess, and here was Germany, trying to pick a fight with the US.

So sir, this was not going to stand. The US put on its ass-kicking boots, put its hat on the table and the turned around fixing Germany with a set of eyes that had stopped blinking minutes before.

Germany could not help but notice the glare and went, "whoops". With a terrific double-fisted haymaker, Germany hammered Russia straight back into its own corner, upending the table and scattering all the chairs. Russia was down and would not be getting back up.

Germany turned its attention fully upon the French, the British, and the approaching United States. Italy, barking and yipping like a frantic lap dog, was brushed off and sent rolling.

Austria seemed to be stumbling, having some troubles shoving the Italians away from Trieste. The Turks also were stumbling about. Striking at the unconscious Russia and not scoring a lot of hits.

Though tired and bleeding, the Germans waded into the French and British, seeking to crack open their heads. Just as Britain, starving and panting heavily was about to pass out, the US arrived, giving him some food and support. Coming to the fight fresh, the US did not have a difficult time taking the German blows and then, bending Germany's wrists back told them to give it up before he got mad.

Seeing the futility of continuing a fight they never began, Germany decided that enough was enough. Spinning on his heel, Germany walked back to his own table. The German table was unbroken. Untouched in all the fighting. The rest of the bar was busted up, but not a single punch had been thrown in the German part of the bar.

Then, when the US asked who had started the whole mess, everyone pointed at Germany, who then spit out a mouthful of beer. Germany protested and said that Austria had defended itself against Serbia and that they were only supporting Austria.

Austria was down on its knees, clutching at a broken shard of glass that was sticking out of its neck. With a gasp, Austria collapsed into a pool of its own blood, dead.

When Austria went down, the Old Turk grasped his chest and with a cut-off shriek, fell over backwards dead.

Russia remained sitting on the floor up against the wall, drooling and twitching at unseen foes.

Britain and France shouted, "who is going to pay for all this damage!". Germany looked about as everyone was pointing at him and his untouched dinner table. Austria and the Ottomans were dead. There was no one left to blame, "aw, CRAP!" Germany said in frustration. Italy jumped up and down reminding everyone that they were in this too. Japan, interested in keeping a low profile, quietly kept what it could of German holdings in Asia and turned a hungry eye towards an un-expecting and feeble China.

The US then told France and Britain to take it easy on Germany, reminding them that Germany was never really "beat", they simply stopped fighting. The powers of Europe ignored him and clamored for Germany to be stripped naked and paraded around the bar in victory. Eventually, the US went back to his own table, drawing up a plan to form a group around another table that would settle issues and misunderstandings before they resulted in open warfare.

In this, the US soon grew bored, and soon went back to sucking on his wheat stalk, deaf to the shouting and hollering going on in Europe, disgusted with their behavior. The Europeans were uninterested in this new table.

Serbia, sometime later, comes to and looks around, wondering what has happened since he was knocked out by Austria. He sees a different looking Austria sitting at their own table. Hungary has its own table, too.

Looking around, he notes that he is sitting at a table marked Yugoslavia. The man at the head of the table grinning at him and has a sticker on his shirt saying, "Hello, my name is Marshall Tito". Sitting around this table is Croatia, Montenegro, Macedonia, Slovenia, and Serbia. "Aw, Damn it!" He screams. Once again, he is not free to do as he wishes.

The rest of Hungary has also broken down. The Czechs and the Slovaks form a new table and tell the Hungarians to go get bent, and the Hungarians have no choice but to accept this.

The Russians are in their corner, thrashing about and yelling at itself. Obviously, they were going through an identity crisis. One second he would scream, "White", the next, "Red". Through clenched teeth it would yell, "Finland". Interestingly, the Finnish and the Poles walk away from the Russians and pull up a table and chair all their own, glad to have escaped from Russia's dementia.

The tired old Turks are at an end. Once they were the Terror of Europe. Not any longer. The placard at their table was taken away, along with the Ottoman body. On it was an award, "tearing up Europe since 1453". In its place was a new Turkey with a new leader. Arab nations, under the wing of the British came into being, squabbling and bickering.

The British wondered at these little, screeching and spitting little people. Were they going to cause trouble in the future? Nah, he thought. What can they do? If the Turks could keep them under heel, we certainly can...

The bar was busted up for a long time after this. Some patrons left while others came in to take a seat. Germany was angry as hell that it had to foot the bill for someone else's fight. What exactly was the fight about anyhow? Hell if he knew. All he knew was that every time he made a penny, someone else took it from him and demanded two MORE! No sir, this dog won't hunt. He was going to put an end to it, but he could wait. He would get his revenge for this humiliation.

So there you go, folks. WWI in a bottle. I'm getting requests to do our modern day and perhaps I'll do one soon.

Current events may pull me away for an article or two, but I'll return with a new bar scene shortly.

Live well.

Zavost

WWII, the Bar Room Brawl

Upon the Stoa this night, it is New Year's Eve. According to the Western calendar, at least. 2011 has been a year of transition and change. The world is beginning to get itself into position for reordering.

The years 2008 through 2011 will be looked at just as the years 1929-1933 were looked at. Years just prior to the last great reordering of our world. It would take longer than I have patience to describe what is coming. It would also be too complex to tell easily. However, my daughter and I have developed a pictorial way of describing history.

Particularly amusing is rendering WWII by describing them as individuals in a bar. I'll do my best to replicate the story here as my daughter and I do these discussions as thought experiments to better break down history to make more understandable and fun for others.

Anyhow, here is WWII as described as if it were a barroom brawl.

This bar is a big bar. All the countries if the world are represented here. Well, the countries as they were constituted in 1938.

In the center of the bar we see Germany, counting out fat wads of bills and stacks of coin. France and Great Britain sit across from him, waving the money back in their direction. Germany gets more and more irritated as they pay off the war debt from WWI.

The Soviet Union, battered and bandaged from transforming itself from Russia into its current shape, sits alone in the corner of the bar, keeping everyone out with snarls and mean stares.

The Spanish brothers are in another corner, kicking the crap out of each other. Every so often, Germany slips empty bottles and a shivs to one of the brothers.

Sometimes, when France and Great Britain aren't looking Germany sneaks over to Russia to talk about new weapons and industries.

Germany continued milling about the bar, telling Austria that they need to join up with him. He got pushy with Czechoslovakia as well, telling them that Germany needed repayment for losses suffered by them in the last war.

The Czechoslovaks, with a wink and a nod from France and Great Britain, tell Germany to get stuffed. Before long, Germany has the Czechs in a headlock and glares at his little brother, Slovakia, showing what he will do to him if he is screwed with.

Before long, Hungary, Finland, and Japan, line up with the Germans, thinking that they can have the run of the bar if they teamed up. Italy, its finger caught in the teeth of a small African country named Ethiopia, begged Germany for some assistance, which was promptly granted.

With Germany's backing, Japan began to line up the folks in their corner of the bar. China was quietly dragged screaming into the bathroom and mugged repeatedly.

The United States was sitting quietly in its own corner of the bar, doing its best not to notice what was going on in Europe and Asia.

Eventually, Germany began to push Poland around. A proud man, Poland looked over Germany's shoulder at Great Britain and France for help. Again, a wink and a nod made Poland feel better, though the bloodied and tooth-gapped Czech gently swung his head from side to side, ever so slightly. Poland looked over at the Soviet Union, never a friend of Poland, who surprisingly gave them a wink and a nod of support.

So, Poland spits water in Germany's face and tells him to buzz off.

Germany slowly wiped off the water and in very short order leapt spread Eagled upon the screaming Pole. Great Britain and France stood to the side going, "Hey!" Which was about all they did when the Soviet Union suddenly joined in on the Mother of all Ass-Beatings.

In short order, Poland, now de-panted, coatless and shoeless lied at the foot of Germany's bar stool while the Soviets counted the money left in the wallet.

France and Great Britain were outraged, yet did very little, other than prepare to defend themselves from a clearly psychopathic Germany, who had recently flipped France the bird when asked for another debt payment.

Instead Germany puffed out its chest, glaring at the rest of the world telling them that their asses would be kicked...in alphabetical order.

The United States finally took an interest, though it was definitely of two minds on the situation. Finishing its beer, the US moved to a table closer to Great Britain to keep a closer eye on things.

For quite a while, Germany strutted up and down the bar, snarling and threatening, pointing and cursing. However, it did not seem like he had the stomach to take on the entire bar. Every so often, a high pitched cry for help came from the men's room as China continued to get mugged.

Even as Germany looked to be all hot air and no teeth, the US was slipping money and a set of brass knuckles over to the Brits. The US looked at the situation with growing concern, though he still had no real interest in getting involved.

When Germany struck, they struck quickly, just as he did with Poland. France, certain that Germany was full of manure, sat down to a leisurely meal of cheese and wine.

While France tipped back a glass of Chardonnay, a hand struck out and grabbed France by their greasy locks of hair, and yanked them straight to the floor. Nazi jack-boots immediately began to stamp down repeatedly. The fight with the Polish lasted longer. It was not long at all before France gave up the fight.

Great Britain was shocked and turned to speak to the US, who suddenly got interested in the stew they were eating and acted like they couldn't hear them.

Italy, eager to show how good a partner to Germany they were, kicked over the North African table and began to throw wild punches. Germany quickly dispatched Greece and the Scandinavian brothers.

The Spanish brothers were too engrossed in their own fights to pay much attention.

The Soviet Union simply remained in their corner, counting out the money taken from the Polish wallet.

Great Britain began to jab at Germany while Germany began to knock out English teeth.

As Germany continued to kick the crap out of Europe, Japan now began to assault Southeast Asia, Korea, and the other nations in the Pacific.

Before long, the Soviets, deep in their own schemes, took a beer stein to the side of the head. Still not seemingly aware of the attack, he spits out a tooth and takes a pool cue to the gut. In a blink, a flurry of boots and fists rained down on the dumbfounded Soviets.

After a lot of blood had been shed by Great Britain and the Soviet Union,the US had had enough of it and began to walk over in England's general direction.

Italy, the hapless sibling, was going down under a pile of African opponents and forced Germany to come over and help him out.

The US walked over with his arms out asking for calm and peace. Germany threw down a beaten and battered Morocco and spit on the floor in front of the US. Seemly composed of limitless energy and psychosis, Germany panted, spread his arms and legs and bellowed, "Kompt!"

The US, trying to strike a conciliatory tone, attempted to discuss the situation with Germany.

Before the US could get all the way over towards the rabid Teuton, Japan rabbit punched him in the back of the head. Finally furious, the US shot an arm behind them and throttled Japan by the neck. Germany shot out and began to pummel the US even as the US swung a squirming and windmilling Japan around and began to batter his head repeatedly upon the bar.

Great Britain, newly energized, piled onto Germany's back. The US slammed into Germany even with a screeching Japan in tow.

For several long minutes, Britain, the US, and a newly energized and supported Soviet Union traded punches, blood, and teeth with Germany and Italy.

Italy, taking a punch to the nose, fell on its behind and asked the US if they could join their team. Before the sentence was out, Germany began stamping on Italy.

With enemies all around, Germany was finally pummeled to the floor. The Soviets, Great Britain, and France were beaten badly by Germany, but remained on their feet.

The US finally turned his full attention upon Japan and ordered him to surrender, even as a raw squid was flung in his face.

A mighty blow to the face knocked them through the wall and out onto the pavement. The US stepped up to him, glass crunching underfoot, and demanded that he give up the fight. Again, Japan refused, kicking at the US's kneecaps.

Another crash and Japan landed back in the bar, feet and back up against a wall, head on the floor. Finally a white flag began to come out of a pocket.

The Soviet Union, anxious for more money and land, riffled Japan's pockets and stole a chain of northern Islands; telling the US that they were in the fight against Japan the whole time, in spirit if not in deeds.

You would think that the bar would quiet down after this massive fight, but even as the US was picking up its partners and dusting them off, the Soviets began to drag others over to their side of the bar, snarling and daring the US to deny it the compensation due for all the blood and teeth left on the floor.

And so began the Cold War.

The parts of the bar that sided with the US are nice and busy, while the side that was claimed through the military might of the Soviet Union never really recovered completely.

But that is, of course, another story for another day.

2012 is now underway. Let's look to the future with optimism. Even the worst events can have a happy outcome once all the pieces settle into their new orders.

Live well.

--Zavost