It's the celebratory season. Celebrating Jesus' birthday. Celebrating victory in Libya and Iraq. Celebrating the fact that you got a pair of those Nike's that Americans are dying for.
What with all that celebrating going on it's no wonder there wasn't much celebration of our great victory in Panama exactly 22 years ago this week. Yes, it's been twenty-two years since we opened a can of ass-whup that our little brownish friends in Central America won't soon forget.
Noriega was one of our favorite bum-boys of all time. There isn't an American President or Secretary of State from the sixties to the eighties who didn't have their picture taken with Noriega.
Alas, with all that Yankee adulation, Noriega's head eventually grew too big for his body. He needed a good old fashioned take-down.
It happens to most of our friends sooner or later. The poor old Shah of Iran, after being our best boy in the middle east for ever and ever, wasn't even allowed to come to America for cancer surgery when he was down and out.
Saddam Hussein, in spite of his photo-gallery of handshakes with American nabobs, eventually hit his best-before date. He wasn't just abandoned. He was hunted down and murdered.
That's the way we roll. We're best buddies this week...
Next week, who knows?
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