Border Wars
Dr. Robert Beeman
author, No More Time For Sorrow,
“If you want to make a big bang, shoot a big gun.”
Dr. Robert Oppenheimer, Director, Manhattan Project, 1943
The Great Southern Border Hassle has something to do with Mexican grape pickers or construction workers? Or decreasing the self-esteem of our poor long-suffering Latino communities?
Or evil conservatives finding some non-whites to bash?
...come ON! Get serious.
Or evil conservatives finding some non-whites to bash?
...come ON! Get serious.
The sole issue with our Mexican border is entirely military. How we solve it will determine whether we host a mushroom cloud or two in this country in the near future.
The vision of hordes of heavily pigmented brethren from the Sunny South pulsing through our surveillance like water erupting from a garden hose is a political issue. It's being fought out as we speak between Americans who want to enforce our laws, and Americans who want to join hands for a chorus of “Cum By Hyeah” [“Venga Dios Aqui”], with a little voter registration on the side.
The net political result is to stand down the USBP. Since illegals have all rights as soon as they’re on US soil, and since US Border Patrol agents can’t hunt them in Mexico, the USBP now becomes a taxi service to the nearest INS processing center. Why should they risk their lives catching people who are just going to be rewarded anyway?
The net tactical result is a degradation of border surveillance that will continue to become more and more loose even if the government triples the patrols and keeps troops there. The key fact: our troops are not permitted to detain illegals whom they discover! To many Americans, this doesn’t matter and indeed, it shouldn’t matter to you, unless of course you care whether enough fission material is being brought across into the US to deploy and detonate an atom bomb or two in the Homeland.
But why would terrorists want to do this?
To send the following message to the 1.4 billion Muslims in the world:
Jihad is as strong as America! We have struck
the Devil with his own weapons in his own house!”
Oho! Now THAT's the kind of jihad that plays in Peoria. You can built a really murderous dementia around that kind of material.
The net strategic result of our lax border policy is to send two other messages:
To the rest of the world watching terrorists flowing north into the United States unencumbered by pat-downs and clothes-stripping electronics:
American leaders will sacrifice the safety of their citizens to political correctness.
To the Americans tasked with keeping the border shut…well...sort of shut:
“Rock ‘em and sock ‘em but don’t lose your shirt.”
And what do the terrorists make of all this? Well, what do you think?
Suppose I'm a Regrettably Violence-Prone Islamic Freedom Fighter. Give me a coyote or two from the cartels, forty 35-pound lumps of configured fission-grade Uranium, a like number of Wal-Mart backpack school bags, and a bus load of low-grade Mexicans yearning to breathe free, and I’ll give you some large percentage of twenty nuclear weapons humped across the border into Phoenix. My conversation with the Mexicans would go something like this:
“My friends, I give each of you a backpack to carry with you in your journey. If you are apprehended at the border, just set the backpack down somewhere and walk away from it. We’ll retrieve it and try again. Deliver it safely to our people in Phoenix, and there will be waiting for you another backpack containing one million United States dollars in cash.Bien viaje. Vaya con Dios!”
My conversation with their coyote handler would be somewhat shorter:
“Senor, for every two backpacks that reach us safely in the north, you will receive in your bank account the sum of $5 million US dollars. If they all are delivered to my people, you will receive $150 million. Bien viaje…etc.”
I’ll fund this merry pilgrimage through the proceeds of my mountains of Afghan opium. My last year’s harvest of 8000 pounds was valued uncut at about $250 a kilo, on the street about $31.72 a gram! In truth, the most expensive component of this operation will likely be the backpacks, since I’ll have to pay cash for them instead of paying in opium. Oh well, sometimes you just have to carry a few dollars for times like that.
So the wretched refuse sets out on its nocturnal scramble with loaded backpacks, and eventually only eight of the backpacks make it across the border. Golly gee whillikers…so what? All I need are two of them because all I need is ONE bomb!
But this will probably only work once. Even the current American administration desperate to turn illegals into voters, casting worriedly about for a new minority group to whom to sell their cult of victimization now that the Black minority is in second place…even they could not ignore the discovery of fission grade Uranium ingots being sweated North on the tide of unwashed humanity that nightly emerges from our southern bushes. Suddenly US troops would magically appear authorized to shoot on sight, our Homeland Security Secretary would have harsh words for these miscreants, and things would tighten up.
So what’s not to like about that? Well, nothing…except for the nagging question that tends to sour the taste of my own café latte:
“How many of these little darlings have already been delivered?”
All rights reserved. (c) Dr. Robert Beeman, 2011
This blog post may be reproduced with the following information complete:
Dr Robert Beeman is the Author of No More Time for Sorrow, sequel forthcoming. He is the publisher and CEO of TeethinYourLeg, Inc.. A prolific blogger, author and speaker, you may find addtional information at: http://http://www.drrobertbeeman.com/ and http://http://www.teethinyourleg.com/
E mail and contact info:
Robert Beeman, BA, M.A., Ph.D, CPL , CDL [a]
543 New Baltimore Road, Central City PA 15926
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