>
> On Oct 2, 2009, at 1:18 PM, Bryan Atinsky wrote:
>
> Well, unlike Iran, Israel is not a state where religious authorities hold
>> official state power and which is embroiled in aggressive wars with their
>> neighbors in the region...or...wait...nevermind...
>>
>
> I once asked a guy from the Council on Foreign Relations why it was ok that
> Israel had hundreds of bombs and Iraq wasn't allowed just one. What's the
> standard? Is it just countries we like? He sputtered some, said it was an
> outrageous question, but was unable to formulate an answer.
>
> Doug
>
> With apologies to Willy:
To question, or not to question*:* that is the question*:* Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous questions, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing, end them? To die*;* to sleep*;* No more*;* and by a question to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand neoimperialist shocks That conscience is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To ask why, to repeat*;* To retpeat*:* perchance to annoy*:* ay, there's the rub*;* For in that questioning of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause*;* there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life*;* For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised policy, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With bare logics? who would leftists bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary query, But that the dread of something like Iraq, That unconquer'd country from whose bourne No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of them all*;* And thus the native hue of UN resolutions Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action.--Soft you now! The fair Henwood! Critic of thy prisons Be all their sins remember'd.