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Trump Wags the Dog, May Bomb Iran to Get Himself Re-elected


Well, come on all of you, big strong men,

Uncle Sam needs your help again.

He’s got himself in a terrible jam

Way down yonder in Iran

So put down your books and pick up a gun,

We’re gonna have a whole lotta fun.

With apologies to Country Joe and the Fish, I’ve changed one word on their 1965 hit, “I Feel Like I’m Fixin’ To Die,” from “Vietnam” to “Iran.”

More than 58,000 Americans died in the Vietnam War—a conflict that never had to be fought. Vietnam is now one of America’s friends and trading partners; it’s as if the war never happened. Why, then, did all those men and women have to die? Because U.S. presidents, from Eisenhower through Kennedy, Johnson and Nixon, sent them to their deaths for no good reason.

It may be true that early on, Eisenhower and Kennedy were worried about the “domino theory” that if the Communists got Vietnam and Southeast Asia, pretty soon they’d be taking over the Western hemisphere and threatening the U.S. But by Nixon’s time in office (1969-1974), that threat was clearly non-existent, except in the minds of crazy John Birchers who were the predecessors of the Tea Party and thus of the Trump Party. Nixon therefore presided over the deaths of nearly 22,000 of those American service members, not to keep America safe, but to satisfy his own ego and prove to his base (and to himself) that he was strong.

And now here we go again. We may not be at war by the time this post appears on Friday morning. We may not be by this weekend. Let us hope it never happens. But it sure looks like Trump is itching for war; and the U.S. military, of which he is commander-in-chief, will follow his orders, like lemmings off the cliff, or—more aptly–lambs to the slaughter.

America has lived with the Islamic Republic for forty years. It hasn’t been a friendly relationship, but it hasn’t erupted into war either. The diplomats always have managed to keep us from shooting at each other. But with Trump we have a president who detests his own State Department, who thinks diplomats are lily-livered pansies who sip Chardonnay at useless parties and don’t defend America’s national interests. His base thinks so, too. After all, diplomats are for the most part well-behaved, college-educated and thoughtful—just the opposite of the evangelical rednecks who believe their God anointed Donald Trump.

But now, Trump is facing the crisis of his presidency: all the polls show him losing next year to Democrats. The thing Trump fears most is losing. The thought of him going down to defeat and being taunted as “LOSER” on twitter freaks him out. He will do anything to avoid losing; and one of the most powerful tools he possesses to avoid losing–in his mind, at least–is to drag America into a war with Iran.

I personally think the drone was over Iranian territory, as the Iranians claim. Trump, and neo-fascist warmongers like John Bolton and Mike Pompeo, were looking for an excuse to hit Iran. But El Presidente couldn’t be perceived as the aggressor in the eyes of the international community. Solution: Send the drone over Iranian territory, in which case Iran had the right to shoot it down, and then Trump can lie that it was over international waters. Who can prove otherwise? It’s the Gulf of Tonkin all over again: a pretext based on a prevarication leading to a provocation.

And so, if we go to war, Trump will not only prove his manhood to everyone (despite his tiny, fat hands), he’ll be able to blast Democrats who don’t line up behind him as “pro-terrorist America haters.” And his idiotic supporters will eat it up. The alt.right Proud Boys, secure in the knowledge that their country is in the hands of a strong Fuhrer who has their back, will have another green light: In the Age of Trump, it’s okay to go out and torch Islamic mosques, scrawl swastikas on synagogues, beat up queers, and punch liberals in the face.

And it’s one, two, three

What are we fighting for?

Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn,

Next stop is Iran.

And it’s five, six, seven,

Open up the pearly gates,

Well there ain’t no time to wonder why,

Whoopee! we’re all gonna die.

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