Three wars, one day
a SUIT column by Chris Jungle

Saturday, December 19, 1998. It seemed like a harmless enough date in time. The last and most frantic week of Christmas shopping was just around the corner, the unseasonably warm temperatures took a dip back towards the status quo, and the joggers jogged while the walkers walked. That was the tangible world for me, but it wasn't the world that mattered on that morning. Wars were going on.

In Baghdad, Iraq, bombs landed for the fourth straight day as the military claimed to be doing touch up jobs on targets not exploded to their satisfaction. In Washington, DC, the House of Representatives was in full tilt voting on whether the president should be impeached on four different articles. In Buffalo, NY, the New York Jets played the Buffalo Bills in a game which would clear up some playoff implications.

For some, all three wars mattered. For others, none of them did. Everyone else mixed and matched their war focus with the remaining possible combinations. Who's to say which war was the best? Well, me. I am a columnist, you know.

First, the baggage of Baghdad. From Operation Desert Fox, we received the typical black and white laser target pictures with buildings exploding. I never know what to think about these pictures. For one thing, I don't even know what we're blowing up. Is it a weapon's complex, a luxury palace, or an evil, foul smelling bakery? How do we know when we've won this war? I don't see Saddam saying he's sorry and kissing our feet no matter how many bakeries we bomb, and yes, I get to call him Saddam, because everyone else does. By the way, for all you end-of-the-world freaks, have you noticed Saddam and Sodom are almost the same word? If you start thinking the U.S. is playing the role of God, I think you could really start having fun with a new biblical apocalypse theory. Basically, this war doesn't make any sense. We know why we're bombing, but we don't know what we're trying to prove. Hoping that Saddam steps down is naive and stupid. Doesn't anyone understand the rules of dictatorship?

Next, the dirty wash in Washington. The coverage of representatives making speeches and voting was phenomenal. A real C-SPAN feel on every major network especially during the voting. There's nothing like watching the clock run down as representatives vote along party lines instead of the will of the American people. If only forty percent of the people want him impeached, why did fifty to sixty percent vote yes on Article I and III? I know the answer to that, but I wanted to ask anyway. I didn't understand Livingston stepping down. Is it just me, or are the Republicans screwing themselves more than Clinton ever got from Monica? Yes, I get to call her Monica, because everyone else does. Basically, this war doesn't make any sense either. We know why we're impeaching, but we don't know what we're trying to prove. Hoping that Clinton steps down is naive and stupid. Doesn't anyone understand the rules of partisan politics?

Last, the hullabaloo in Buffalo. If the Jets won, they would clinch the AFC East Division title. Something they hadn't done for three decades. If Buffalo won, they would clinch a playoff birth with a quarterback named Flutie. We knew what was at stake, and we knew what we were trying to prove. The Jets won 17-10 with Flutie's last hail mary pass falling with a thud on the turf. The action was violent but lively. It proves once again that the best wars involve a definite playing field with boundaries, rules that everyone agrees to, slow motion replay, and a time table in which everything must be done. Preferably within three hours or less.

All in all, it was an interesting Saturday, December 19, 1998. Much more going on in my intangible world than the calendar and Farmer's Almanac foretold. So Baghdad was bombed, the president was impeached, and the Jets won. Honestly, I didn't like any of the outcomes. None of the three conclusions coincided with my personal philosophy, but sometimes the wars don't go my way. We'll see what happens next December 19.

Chris Jungle is refusing to return from his intangible world.

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