The Civility of War

I had to break out some 1870′s law the other day during a trial by saying you can’t hornswaggle a person if they’re absent from the proceedings due to mandatory tour dates with Uncle Sam and The Freedom Fighters.  Even though everyone agreed the case was still controlling law – i.e. the legal equivalent to a wife on a piece of paper, because it still tells you what to do no matter how old it gets – someone in the courtroom declared, “The Civil War ain’t goin on no more.”  I quickly looked around to make sure there were no Yankees in attendance who hadn’t gotten the telegraph, and were still being held as our prisoners.  All of this historical fightin’ referencin’ then led my hamster wheel to start turning.  When in the fucking history of this life-sustaining sphere has there ever been a “civil” war?  I guess soldiers in the Revolutionary War said things like: “Oh, not to bother you old chap, but would you mind if I shot you with my gold musket when you finish that spot of tea?” or “Say ole boy, once the band quits playing the Queen’s Greatest Hits Volume I, may I bayonet you in a rather uncomfortable area – above the belt of course – to ensure the King James Bible endures and the Monarchy remains triumphant over you heathens?”  I seriously doubt those straight from bland food and teeth Isle were as cordial while plotting the end of existence.

I know any idiot with the History Channel will tell you the term “civil war” applies to fighting inside a country betwixt its own people.  Sort of like sperm jockeying to get in front of the line, so they can ride that white train out of town.  No matter if you’re trying to take out Ned Flanders and pillage Ma Flanders before doing so, you’re not going to be civil about it.  Civility is not something people fighting with themselves take into consideration, especially when trying to decide which flag to strategically stick into a certain piece of property.  You never heard, “There’s old Jeb Forest.  He’s been a purty good friend until he done decided he couldn’t turn his back on makin slaves out of blacks.  Guess I better go ask his paw if’n it would be better to gut shot him for buryin’ purposes, or split his melon clean so as to ease him out real quick like.”  Those fools were fighting over keeping a race of people under wraps, versus allowing them to be free for not-so moralistic reasons.  I think Thomas Jefferson was for it, because he was supposedly the first of the Founding Fathers to catch a bad case of the Jungle Fever.  In between practicing up on his Monticello, he was helping himself to a lot of the help.  He may have been the first true American pimp.  He was porkin chicks faster than milk could curdle, all while wearing hosiery, knickers, and a powdered wig.  Jefferson should be an inspiration to anyone who wants to dress like a queer, and sexually dominate a race of people. 

That song ”War” by Edward Starr was annoying, yet it was good for pointing out the uncivility of killing in the name of some joint with its own flag.  I wonder if you would have wars if the separate factions didn’t have flags.  Think about it.  What would they be fighting for then?  If they had nothing to place in the ground they just conquered, what good would the conquering have been?  You couldn’t really prove you conquered anything, because without a flag you’re just some son of a bitch squatter.  Anyway, E.S. – as he is known to you and me – wrote a song decrying the art of war and all the tragedy that goes along with it.  I think old E.S. would have changed the world, and could have possibly done away with the need for NATO and the U.N., if he hadn’t put so many fucking “uh’s”, “huh’s” and “ha’s” in that song.  The message was correct, but the grammar was too Rocky-esque for anyone to take it seriously.  Can you imagine Henry Kissinger telling President Johnson, “War, it isn’t really good for nothin.”  To which the president responds, “Say it again.”  “Huh, good gawd y’all, absolutely nothin, ha, uh, say it again.” Kissinger responds.  “Well, I’ll tell you Kissy, you may be right.  But nobody is going to buy into that horseshit with you sounding like you just stuck your dick in an armadillo hole.  If you can make it sound less like J. Edgar Hoover and Roy Cohn gettin it on in one of those goddamn soup cans Andy Warhol paints, then we’ll go with it.  Otherwise, I don’t want to hear that pump talk again.”  Who would’ve thought President Johnson could put it so eloquently?

In closing, I think it’s safe to say Risk is the only real civil war game out there.  Even that can get ugly though, because it fucking goes on forever, requires a Master’s Degree in Geography to play, and the pieces are just the right size to sting when thrown at the right velocity.