It is to weep. The top security adviser to the president is a guy with this kind of judgment defect right from the git. Here we are sixteen years after 9/11 and we still can't get our official head out of a dark and remote location, to borrow from the great Chris Plante.President Trump’s newly appointed national security adviser [Lt. Gen. H.R. McMaster] on Thursday reportedly held his first “all hands” staff meeting where he said labels like “radical Islamic terrorism” are not helpful because he said terrorists are “un-Islamic.”[1]
Notes
[1] "Trump's national security adviser reportedly says label 'radical Islamic terrorism' not helpful." By FoxNews.com, 2/25/17.
H/t: Gates of Vienna.
6 comments:
I give up, Colonel.
I just give up. This madness has even infested the Australian Army, the subject of the latest post at Crusader Rabbit.
The West deserves to be crushed. It would be God's judgement on us and simple justice.
Army training, sir!
I hope and pray this sort of stupidity is not infecting the Corps.
Old school military training used to include the idea that failing to ID and know your enemy was the first step on the road to defeat.
Looks like a loser.
The President has given in to the Power structure on this appointment and dropped Putin détente to avoid the continuing distraction of the 'Russia connection.' Could not afford to expend political capital on this part of the program at this time. After the domestic stuff is done maybe he can turn his attention to Russian détente. They probably threatened him with a special prosecutor.
I sort of hope the NSA guy is billboarding, and in his secret actions is thinking of the survival of our nation by applying head fakes, like you would to a massive defensive lineman coming full bore at you. Must we wait til every peaceful one is on our doorstep with his scimitar?
Wife and I usually end the day with the comment that starts: "But God..."
A good example was the Oscars, of that... at least we thought so. The fools on stage had just finished disparaging our Lion of Judah, our Cyrus; and all of a sudden a noise: "Touch not my anointed...!"
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