So after my recent petulant return to the blogosphere, I would that I throw some lightness into the mix. But after housemate extraordinaire H brought my attention to this tasty little piece of rank hatred, apparently I am sticking with the bile-spewing theme.
I'd very much like to be able to comment articulately, sanely, and in detail about exactly how offensive this craven piece of spin is, because I wouldn't want to lower myself to simply devising more and more creative ways of hoping that everyone responsible burns in hell. Because, don't you know, that isn't very mature. Not to mention perilously close to the conspicuously braindead self-righteousness of said persons.
Suffice to say that the part which overtaxed my relucantly suppressed hellfire impulses is the pearl of oxymoronic blithering act of assymetric warfare.
You mean, when one of you is wearing battle fatigues and an assortment of automatic weaponry and the other is wearing a hood, an orange prison jumpsuit and ankle restraints? Well, naturally the guy in the restraints counts as a combatant. This is war. But well, my goodness! How can he engage? Wait -- I have it! He kills himself! Genius.
You murderous bastards. I hope you all burn in hell.
Yeah, I know. But my self-restraint sucks right now.