Jack Slater from Slate has a column on the journalists that were killed by American tanks firing on the Palestine Hotel and Al Jazeera headquarters. As he says, it's too bad they died, but people covering wars sometimes get killed. Happened to Robert Capa, for example. And, probably, Ambrose Bierce. Stephen Crane's health wasn't helped any by his covering the Spanish-American War; he died shortly afterward. George Orwell, admittedly a combatant, nonetheless nearly got killed in the May 1937 fratricidal fighting in Barcelona. Plenty of journalists got taken hostage in 1980s Lebanon. Hell, more than several journos were taken prisoner by the Iraqis in this here war, and one of the two dead Spanish journalists was killed by an Iraqi missile, along with another reporter and a couple of American soldiers. Everybody here in Spain, though, is going ballistic about the dead cameraman in the Palestine Hotel who was apparently killed by American tank fire. Highly selective morality here, folks. Pathetic. The "No a la guerra" shock troops, including 100% of the Spanish reporter corps, have LOST, so they will now do everything possible to smear mud on the Coalition forces. Be prepared for stories over the next several years showing how terrible things are in Iraq and how it's all our fault. When you see them, just laugh. I bet we have a good laugh every day around here.
The pathetic losers held a pot-banging last night in protest, so I cranked up the Hag doing "The Fightin' Side of Me" and "Okie from Muskogee". Then we heard Charlie Daniels and "The Devil Went Down to Georgia". Finally, though I don't like the song, I played Lee Greenwood singing "God Bless the USA", and then I played ZZ Top doing "Tube Snake Boogie" just to be a jerk. They were still banging the pots, so I put on Bob Seger's Greatest Hits because it's the worst CD I've got. The banging went away after about the first three songs, which I was just as happy about, so I could stop the pain. Murph played Frank Sinatra doing "My Way" and "New York, New York". Tomorrow night we get sophisticated and play "Fanfare for the Common Man", "Appalachian Spring", and then the horrific "Grand Canyon Suite".
There's a two-hour strike today against the war. Little late, isn't it, guys? There's also going to be, get this, "people's lunches" in front of American fast-food outlets at 2:30; I assume those who show up will be squatters munching on chorizo sandwiches and swilling boxes o' wine. I'm a vegetarian, but I'm thinking about going to the Mickey D's on Mayor de Gracia and seeing what happens. I'll get a Coke to show my support.