Different Slants

The U.S. wars in Iraq and Viet Nam bear little resemblance in my opinion. The North Vietnamese were fighting for reunification and were supported by two world powers, China and the Soviet Union. The Iraqis seem to be fighting to settle old scores. But since President Bush made the analogy, lets think about it.

Why were these wars started?

In the case of Viet Nam, the war was started by the French to protect French economic interests and taken over by the U.S. for idealogical reasons, to fight the spread of communism. In the case of Iraq, the reasons given keep changing. The only one not mentioned, to protect U.S. oil supplies, seems the most likely. We may never know the real reasons behind this war.

How were the wars sold to the American public? (Read on …)

Robert M. Katzman’s Amazing Story: www.differentslants.com/?p=355

August 8, 2007

One morning some years ago, near Chicago, I was at a currency exchange where I would go to pay my utility bills. I suppose I could have mailed my payment, but it was faster for me to pay it in person. Besides, the dark-eyed girl working there behind the glass had a great rack on her and she always smiled at me, her blood-red lipstick gleaming on her soft, luscious lips. And when she walked over to punch my account numbers into her machine, I got a global view of all her…assets.

I didn’t mind, she didn’t mind, and the whole day was better for the experience.

So, on this particular day, I was waiting in line to see my favorite cutie. I was on the left side of the small room where she always worked behind the bullet-proof glass, and there was another young guy at the teller down the way from me paying a bill too, with about a four yards between us.

I am white. He was black. I think my sexy teller was Assyrian, but that wasn’t crucial to what followed next, on what seemed to be just another ordinary morning.

It was very quiet with the four us going about our business. Then, another young white guy, about twenty, blonde and thin, maybe five foot eight, walked in the exchange and stood silently behind me. I was almost ready to go, when the chime on the only door to the place clanged loudly as the door was suddenly shoved open and three adorable, very young black children scampered into the room, followed by a short, hesitant, and thin to the point of appearing to be nearly anorexic, man of about thirty or so. The kids were full of energy and called the petite man “Dad.”

Then, to my disbelieving eyes an enormous blob of a woman ended this little parade. She was close to six feet tall, and for lack of a more accurate description, the woman most closely resembled the evil Jabba, (Read on …)