Soldiers take a break during Cromwell's March to Dingle
The problem with waging another war isn’t that we might have ‘boots on the ground’, it isn’t that we might have troops ‘in country’, but that we would have personnel ‘in continent.’ This endeavor might necessitate the invention of a field remedy for gas, bloating, and Diaspora. Reflect, we must, on lessons learned from campaigns in world history, such as Cromwell’s March to Dingle. Cromwell himself ‘devoured the bitter berries of conflict’ and spent many days and nights engaged in situational pinching. Of course, war could radicalize a soldier, a corporal who might author, over some stir-fry takeout, his famous digestive tract, Chicken Lo Mein Kampf. No, these are the iPad Thai Cobb Salad Days of our fighting men and women, who should be enjoying careless activities like taking an unexcused absinthe. Or admiring a motor speedway event like the Envy 500. They should be listening to pop music by a group such as Third Eye Blind, the band-mates of whom must’ve masturbated just a little bit extra—to blind the metaphorical eye, too. A declaration of war requires votes by legislators, and the legislators of one party will say “Chappaquiddick Pro Quo” to the legislators of the other party, when trading votes in a bicameral fashion. If there is a war, there must be a financier, and the leading firm is Don Ho Chi Minh Citibank, with Hawaiian muzak playing the lobby of its Vietnamese HQ. We should make sweet, tender love instead. To wit, half our people should be noting the nearness and farness, the nearness and farness, the nearness and farness of the headboard. What else is there? Oooh, let’s inflate our currency and await further instructions!