Another encomium to Kerry’s raff and scaff

I’m really on a tear here, finding examples of those “failures” the self-styled Progressives like to point to in our military. (See here and here for my other “raff and scaff” posts.) Today’s example of estimable raff and scaff is Teflon Don, who blogs at Acute Politics. According to his blog, he just turned 23, and he’s reporting direct from Iraq.

The reason Teflon Don caught my attention is that he is a wonderful writer. And coming from me, that’s high praise indeed, because I’m someone who prefers my writing utilitarian (communicate, communicate, communicate) rather than almost poetic. Nevertheless, Teflon Don’s elegant prose always catches my eye and really makes me envious:

The night was hot yesterday. The sun had set an hour or two previously, and yet the thermometer on the back porch still read 105 degrees. Two helicopters flew low overhead, tilting at the sliver of moon rising above our barracks. The rotor wash from the choppers turned the porch into a hellish wind tunnel. On the other side of the dirt-filled wall of HESCO barriers, the Marines were lining up for another mission out into Ramadi. Blue chemlights described glowing arcs through the night as Marines taped the markers to radio antennas and released them skyward, and the night thumped to the tune of Guns ‘N Roses on some Marine’s stereo.

Having read Teflon Don’s posts, I was, of course, quite curious about the contents of John Kerry’s War diary. After all, he went to school and made something of himself.  Notwithstanding Kerry’s own high estimation of his intellect and abilities, I was unsurprised to discover that Kerry’s wartime writing was not only pompous, ponderous, and awkward, but also virtually unintelligible. Here’s a sample:

“I was amazed at how detached I was from the whole scene. I just lay in the ditch, not firing because I wanted to save ammo and because I couldn’t see what I was firing at and I thought about what was happening in New York at that very moment and if people really felt that I was doing something worthwhile while they went down to Schrafft’s and had another ice cream sundae or while some fat little old man who made another million in the past months off defense contracts was charging another $100 call girl to his expense account. And then, when the shooting stopped, I came back to where I was.”

You can see two more examples here.

I will continue to be on the prowl for my examples of the raff and scaff that illuminate our American military.