FERGUSON, Mo. — A couple of weeks ago I was on a date with a lovely woman of the goth persuasion. I was doing pretty well—naturally—and she invited me to her apartment in Brooklyn, where she put on some music to set the mood.
And when I heard the first few chords of Green Day’s soft-core punk anthem “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)," I began to weep uncontrollably.
Not because the song elicits memories of my days purging Eastern Europe of Soviet meatheads. Not because I wanted to invite the sympathy of my companion, to feel the bristles of her Elvira wig against my cheek, her black-painted nails pressed into my shoulder.
No. I wept for America.
Secretary of Defense Chuck Hagel resigned was fired on Monday, vindicating critics who had long argued that Hagel was unfit for the job.
"Chuck Hagel has been no ordinary secretary of defense," the man who fired him (President Obama) said in a statement.
And this is certainly true. An ordinary secretary of defense, for example, probably could have defended his face from a kitchen cabinet. Hagel could not. Also, he couldn't get anyone to return his phone calls.
On the one hand, it makes sense why the White House needed to leak so emphatically this morning that Hagel’s departure was “under pressure” and not an amicable split. First, Hagel and his people were saying that he had initiated the split over his frustrations with the White House, and the president’s aides no doubt felt that such a narrative needed a strong response.
WASHINGTON (Reuters) - U.S. Defense Secretary Chuck Hagel has resigned, a U.S. defense official said on Monday, adding that President Barack Obama had accepted his resignation.
The Pentagon announced Wednesday that “all U.S. military service members” returning from Ebola plagued countries in West Africa would face a mandatory 21-day quarantine to ensure they are not infected with the deadly disease.
Yesterday, speaking at an international confab of defense ministers in Peru, U.S. Secretary of Defense Chuck Hagel unveiled his department’s Climate Change Adaptation Roadmap. A letter from Hagel asserts at the beginning of the Roadmap that:
While scientists are converging toward consensus on future climate projections, uncertainty remains. But this cannot be an excuse for delaying action. Every day, our military deals with global uncertainty. Our planners know that, as military strategist Carl von Clausewitz wrote, “all action must, to a certain extent, be planned in a mere twilight.”
Clausewitz, indeed. Side note: this quotation from the great 19th century German theorist of warfare appears to come from the translation of Colonel J.J. Graham, who, sadly, passed away in 1883, his edition have since been superseded by numerous quality 20th century translations. I like to picture Secretary Hagel composing his introduction to the Roadmap late at night in an elegantly appointed Northern Virginia study, perhaps by a roaring fire—strike that: too much carbon—with a snifter of brandy near at hand, suddenly reaching for his dog-eared and much beloved Graham translation of On War. Sure, his aides make gentle fun of this stubborn refusal to consult more contemporary editions—but the old fox is set in his ways.
General James Amos, the 35th commandant of the Marine Corps, will come to the end of his term of office this week. Marines, as a matter of custom and temperament, are well known for revering their commandant. Difficult questions of doctrine or procedure within the Corps may be settled by asserting, without a shred of irony, that "the commandant wants it this way." Famously the most disciplined of the services, this respectful and admiring deference for the leader is part of what it has traditionally meant to be a Marine.
Which makes it all the more strange that Jim Amos is so widely—and, on social media, openly—disliked by Marines.
Over the weekend there was a new outbreak of criticism about the man, inspired by an 80-page report prepared by a critic of the commandant, a former Marine and lawyer named Lee Thweatt.
The Marine Corps Times has the story:
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FERGUSON, Mo. — A couple of weeks ago I was on a date with a lovely woman of the goth persuasion. I was doing pretty well—naturally—and she invited me to her apartment in Brooklyn, where she put on some music to set the mood.
And when I heard the first few chords of Green Day’s soft-core punk anthem “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)," I began to weep uncontrollably.
Not because the song elicits memories of my days purging Eastern Europe of Soviet meatheads. Not because I wanted to invite the sympathy of my companion, to feel the bristles of her Elvira wig against my cheek, her black-painted nails pressed into my shoulder.
No. I wept for America. 
