Our war colleges and defense department executive offices are filled with men and women who have never so much as played tourist in an actual war. These tend to be the people who brag more about their "service" than a peacetime POG.

I blame the nasty, sack-of-donuts looking opinion writers who line up to tongue punch their fart boxes. The entire DC faux-military industrial complex could burn tomorrow, and it would probably improve our warfighting ability at least tenfold.

These pompous jackasses haven't been right about a single thing in nearly twenty years of constant war. Most of them haven't bothered to visit any of those wars, and talk down to the better men who did.

Afghanistan? It'll be over in three weeks, bro.

Iraq? We'll be greeted as liberators.

Afghanistan, again? What we really need is to put guards on the poppy fields while we shovel money to anyone who says they'll build a girls school.

Iraq, again? Just drive past all those people not wearing uniforms. The Republican Guard are the real threat.

Afghanistan, again? Hey, we gotta play nice with the people who are chaining their little boy sex slaves to the wall. It's how we win hearts and minds.

Iraq, again? Let's pull out. No, not all the way out, just enough to provide plenty of poorly protected targets.

Afghanistan, again? Same thing.

Libya? Nice change of pace. Let's provide air support for the nasty terrorists trying to kill the one MENA dictator to deal with us in good faith and mail his nuclear program to Tennessee.

Syria? What do you mean Bashar al-Assad doesn't trust us to deal in good faith?

We better send weapons to al Qaeda to take him out.

Syria, again? What do you mean the terrorists we armed just joined ISIS?

These sacks of shit have been constantly wrong, to the tune of trillions of dollars and tens of thousands of American lives.

If you were anywhere near that bad at your job, you'd be on a stick outside the office as a warning to others.

And they have the audacity, the absolute gall, to pretend that they know something that you don't. When the most talented among them plagiarized General Krulak, and the least just had a mom who encouraged Linda Tripp to record her phone calls.

Fuck all of these people with the most unpleasant object you can lay hands on. All of their lives combined aren't worth a single one of my dead friends.