Signs of Danger Missed – Again


Monday, February 27, 2012 , T.J. Lane, 17, admitted taking a .22 caliber Ruger semiautomatic pistol to Chardon High School in Chardon, Ohio. He killed three students and wounded two other students.  Why? What motive? Who knew something that day, or days before, or months and years before that deadly day? What were the signs of danger? Perhaps an abusive home life, a psychopath, a loner, friendless, bullied and dozens of other possibilities. The events of that Monday remind one of the Red Lake Massacre in March, 2005. Jeffrey Weise, age 16, killed 10, and wounded 7.

At Red Lake Minnesota,  2005 , a 16 year old kills five students, a security guard, a teacher, his grandfather, the grandfather’s companion, wounded seven others, and then he commits suicide. We all are stunned by the violence of his actions, and once again we ask how come we missed the danger signs. In fact, the danger signs were not missed at all, but rather many foreboding events were clearly noted by various persons, including peers, authorities, educators, and family members. The following are some of the danger signs reported after the horror.

The child’s stepaunt stated that the school or authorities could see the event coming in that,”the clues were all there….but did they not put two and two together? This kid was crying out, and those guys chose to ignore it…”

The high school principal, “…felt like this was a troubled young man, and someone whose problems we felt like we were addressing.”

Internet pen pals reported that they missed warning signs including a gory zombie, Columbine references, a killer who committed suicide, and his statement that he might disappear unexpectedly. On various internet postings, the child used German words translated to mean: forsaken, abandoned, death’s head, and skull. He reported taking anti-depressants, seeing a therapist, and he had new cuts on his wrists. He stated, “The law of existence requires uninterrupted killing…So that the better may live.”

During the prior school year the child claimed to have been accused of threatening to “shoot up” the school. The school principal declined to confirm such an event.

An internet administrator reported that the child wrote that his mother physically and verbally abused him. He wrote an internet story depicting a character dressed all in black, a teacher with a Hitleresque moustache, and references to the Columbine shootings.

Another adult resident of the community, and cousin of one of the victims stated, “There were a lot of signs of real trouble…and he had said last year that he was to kill himself. But somehow I was never scared of him. I don’t know why not. He never really showed that it could be directed this way.”

Fellow students saw his drawings of people with bullet holes in their heads, half-living people with blank stares and skeletons. “He was different, you could say, out of place around here.”

The likelihood is that as the investigation unfolds there will be other ‘signs’ of danger that will be revealed.  Other recollections by friends, family and information retrieved from his computer will torment us as to the possibility that the killings could have been avoided. Dr. Katherine S. Newman of Princeton University suggests that, “it is exceedingly difficult to see these kids coming, to put it together and see the pattern.”

Putting it together from such disparate, non-communicative sources is not only difficult, but often impossible. Only after the fact are we sometimes able to comprehend the behavior of a child so pathetically disturbed. How and when would the various reporters encounter one another, and share their information? What is the likelihood of informed collaboration between a website administrator, internet pen pals, a school principal, a stepaunt, community residents, and therapist? How much, if any, information could have been gleaned from the Grandfather and his companion? Why were they killed? What was happening in his Grandfather’s home?

Everyday we read of killings, by children, adults, men and women.  We are often left to wonder why the deaths couldn’t be predicted and hence avoided. Observations of children’s behavior are often disturbing, yet frequently ignored by peers, and adults alike. Reports of aberrant behavior are often kept privileged by educators, therapists, and other authorities. Acting-out and delinquent acts are seen as typical of a certain age, or sub-culture. Earnest reports are too frequently seen as over-reactions by the reporter. Peers are usually very indulgent of their mate’s bizarre actions, and they will keep the information from their parents, or other authority figures. Keeping secrets is a seen as a virtue amongst many youths.

Jeff Weise, the 16 years old, and T.J. Lane, the 17 year old knew all the facts. Jeff, and T.J.  bore all the tormented feelings. Only Jeff and T.J. lived with all the signs of danger. We owe them and their victims the resolve to speak out, to insist upon being heard, to resist our fears of retribution, to trust and to share our insights and best guesses, to act with a sense of urgency, to require responses to our queries, and to even violate the privileges of privacy when we believe that our actions will protect another’s well being. We can no longer view our children as personal property. We must as a society appreciate the communal responsibility for our children. The signs of danger must be seen, not as troublesome signals, but rather as clear evidence of crisis, peril and vulnerability.

The Undecided


The news reports that millions of potential voters are undecided about their choice of President. A very natural condition, to be undecided about an event. When does the state of ‘undecided’ evolve into ‘decided’. Well I will tell you when…..

1). Miss,  cream cheese or butter on your bagel? Said the clerk.

Well, just a minute. Said the Woman.

Bagel with cream cheese of butter? Clerk repeated.

I’m not certain. Said the Woman.

Lady, cheese or butter. Which? Said the Clerk.

It’s not so easy. Said the Woman.

What is not so easy? Said the Clerk

Deciding cheese or butter. Said the Woman

Lady, are you hungry. Said the Clerk.

Oh, yes – for sure. Said the Woman.

Well, I am closing in two minutes. Said the Clerk

Cheese, I’ll take cheese. Said the Woman.

2). The heat was oppressive.
The rope tore at his wrists .
Jose stared blankly at the 7 soldiers to his front.
“Do you desire a blindfold? “ said the Captain.

“No! declared Jose.

“As you wish. Now the name.”

“No, never!” shouted Jose.

“The name – I want the name. ”demanded the Captain.

“Drop dead, Captain” said Jose

“Jose you have one more chance. I will count to three. The name. ”said the Captain

The Captain commanded the 7 men to firing position.
“One, two…” said the Captain

“Miquel, Miquel. His name is Miguel” screamed Jose.

“At ease men.” Commanded the Captain.

3). The airline site offered just two more tickets at 555.00.
I went to the Kayak site to check other offers.
None were any better.
I returned to the airline site. Only one more ticket at 555.00

Perhaps I could extend my stay at a lower fare.
I changed my dates, and saw a fare for 222.00.
I had only to stay three extra days in Paris. Not bad.
I returned to the airline site and still one ticket left at 555.00.

Three more days in Paris at 102.00 per night. And then food.
Back at the airline site the fare was gone.
I immediately refreshed my computer, and there was the 555.00. Only one left.
With a firm press I chose Select. Done. I got the fare!
The airline sent a confirmation to my email. What a relief.

A Day in the Life of…..

Donald Trump: Wall spackling, toilet repair, Waste Management contract renewal, signage for building, parking lot pot holes, hiring window washers, law suit in Atlantic City, Beauty Queen dressing room visit, and renegotiating mortgage on Trump Tower.

Hillary Rodham Clinton: China conference on Woman’s Rights, testifying at Congressional Bengazi hearing, decision regarding Osama mission, U. S. Senate vote on Supreme Court Justice, action on equal pay for women, health care legislation for children, meeting with heads of state of 100 nations, administration of the United States State Department.

What a day!!!!!



Beat the Clock

Five, four, three, two, one…We have a winner, oh, one moment, we don’t have a winner, we have a loser! I am so sorry, but you missed the deadline by one/half second. What a shame.

Shirley had so hoped that she would win the Samsung Washer/Dryer. She knew the capitol of Jamaica. Of course she knew the capital – she was born in Kingston. How could she possible lose? No way that she could lose. Oh well, the consolation prize was 6 months of free diaper service. Fortunately, Shirley still had an infant little girl.

But Michael, poor Michael, his tale of woe was much more tragic. Michael rarely played the lotto, but last week he decided to take a chance. The total power ball jackpot was 130,000,000 dollars. Unbelievable. Why not try. Michael decided to choose his numbers from the days and years of the birthdates of his wife and four children. He chose 7, 14, 32, 44, 56 and 64. For the power ball number he chose the date of his mother’s death, 16.

After work on Monday evening he went to the grocery store near his home. Unfamiliar with the deadline for buying the ticket, the grocery store lotto machine had closed just 5 minutes prior to Mike’s arrival. Somewhat dismayed, but one dollar richer, Michael went home. Later that evening while watching the late news, the winner numbers were announced. The spunky announcer shouted: 7, 14, 32, 44, 56, 64 and power ball number 16.

For a millisecond, Michael’s entire system went on off. Michael did not believe the numbers, but the numbers were in bold print on the t.v. screen. He immediately told himself that his numbers were different. He wished with all his heart that his numbers were not the same. Michael looked for the piece of paper that he had written his numbers. He couldn’t find the paper. Perhaps he was wrong. No he knew he was not wrong. He lost, but what a terrible loss.

For need of several more seconds, Shirley would be washing diapers in brand new machines. A few more minutes and Michael would be consulting with financial advisors, bankers, and long lost relatives. Deadline! Time’s UP! Pencils Down! And plain old STOP!!!

In Vienna, in the year our Lord, November, 2015, an international clock was ticking. For the first time, the Russians, Americans, Saudis, and Iranians were meeting to solve the Syrian devastation. The deadline came and went and bombs away.

White Rules

In the Blue and Red corner we have Latinos and Asian Americans and in the White corner we have WHITE Americans. In the opinion page of the November 20, 2014, Professor Zoltan L. Hajnal offered, “The democrats immigration problem”. Mr. Hajna’s basic theme was that President Obama’s proposed immigration changes would offer little electoral support for the Democratic party in subsequent elections.  How come? WHITE, WHITE,…. Mr. Hajnal is obsessed with the word WHITE.

The United States of America has many WHITES. The United States of America has lots of native born workers, that is WHITE workers. Mr. Hajnal suggests that due to the overwhelming numbers of WHITES in America, Democrats will gain little advantage gathering potential votes from Latinos and Asian Americans. Does that WHITE advantage bode well for Republicans?  That may be an electoral outcome, but of greater significance is that Mr. Hajnal has identified the malignancy that tortures our nation.

Mr. Hajnal, a political science professor, offers an analysis of voter dispositions, and in doing so, he highlights the constancy of the racial, and ethnic bigotry that exists as a national low-grade fever that in some unpredictable time frame erupts into febrile convulsions. WHITE used to describe a human is a clinical symptom of cultural illness.  WHITE as a description of a human is not only meaningless, but in fact ignores the actual properties of WHITE. WHITE is a color. WHITE carries every color of the spectrum. WHITE transmits all colors. WHITE is the blending of all colors. Does Hajnal’s WHITE American include all colors? Is that what he means by WHITE? It is time that we rid our descriptive vocabulary of humans as being WHITE, unless by that one means persons of all colors.

Speak in Tongues

Yesterday the Secretary of State Kerry was citing the success of the fight against ISIS. He stated that “thousands, single digit, of ISIS were killed.” By that I assumed he meant a digit from 1 to 9. Perhaps he had a number that would precede the ‘thousands’ but did not want to say it. I guess he could have said, “a hundred, times 10, multiplied by a single digit”  or “more than one thousand, but less than ten thousand” thus staying within the single digit concept. Instead he chose to speak in tongues. And speaking of tongues – here goes!

Some words are proper nouns. We might soon be informed that a ‘Mitt’ or a ‘Jeb’ might seek the Republican nomination for President. Truth be told, and I am one committed to the truth, Mitt Romney birth name is, Willard Mitt Romney, and Jeb Bush birth name is John Ellis Jeb Bush. Our history has had four Johns are President:  John Adams, John Quincy Adams, John Tyler (a mystery ) and John Kennedy. We have never had a Willard. Is it time for a Willard? Or should we continue the lineage of Johns? Or do we dare to break with tradition and go rogue with Mitt or Jeb.

Scene at Buckingham Palace and the introduction of the new President Jeb Bush to the Queen of England.

Prime Minister: Your Majesty, it is my honor to present the President of the United States, “Jeb Bush”.

Queen: President Bush. Jeb, What a charming first name.

Jeb: Thank you your Majesty.

Queen: I have never had the pleasure of meeting a Texas cowboy.

Jeb: Oh no, mam, I am from Texas, I’m no cowboy.

Queen: Forgive me, but I remember one time viewing a film from the United States, and the sheriff was named,  Jeb.

Jeb: Well Your Highness, I assure you I never been in a movie, and my name is John Ellis Jeb Bush.

Queen: Oh, so many fine names. Is there a reason you are called Jeb?

Jeb: Well, your Holiness – excuse me  – your Highness. It is a long story, and I don’t want to bore you.

Queen: No, please. I am quite interested. Please tell me.

Jeb: Oh well. When I was just a whipper snapper…
(Queen interrupts)
Queen:  A whipper snapper? Pray tell, what is that?

Jeb:  Just a Texas expression. Nothing special. Just means pretty young – like a messin around kid.

Queen: Oh so charming. Fine, please go on.

Jeb: Well, one day I was out by our barn, and I was messin with a hog. Just trying to stick the hog with a stick. My Mom, saw me and hollered, “Jeb, stop messin with that hog!”

Queen: Oh, that messin once again. Your Mother said “Jeb”. Why would she say “Jeb”?

Jeb: Your Highness, I told you it is a long story, but I’ll cut it short. You see my mom was an expert in Civil War history. She loved the Confederacy, so do I. Well anyway one of the southern Generals was James Ewell Brown Stuart. He was real brave and charmin especially with the women. Kinda like me. General Stuart’s nickname was “Jeb”. That’s it, that the story.

Queen:  Well thank you. That wasn’t so long. I am sure you were pleased that your Mother didn’t call you “Ewell”, (Queen chuckles).

Jeb:  Yes mam. I sure am lucky she didn’t call me “Ewell.”

Queen: Well I must say that your family, especially your father President Bush, and your brother President Bush have “ done your nation real proud.” How is that for Texas talk, Mister Jeb?”

Jeb: Your Majesty, that was real fine. You’re a downright real fine Queen.



Will the Real Shrink Please Stand

My Aunt Alice asked me to speak to a group of Hadassah women. She told me that the payment would be seventy five dollars. I accepted the offer, although I was dismayed with the fee. Alice then informed me that it was traditional for the guest speaker to donate the fee back to the Hadassah. At that point I was livid, though outwardly quite calm. I agreed, as I frequently do despite my total commitment to the opposing point of view. She didn’t even wince when she asked me to agree to the charitable donation, as if she knew of my basic passive-aggressive character. Alice took advantage of me, her favorite nephew.

I entitled the talk, “Reflections of a Shrink.” When I told her the title, she remarked, “…but I thought that only psychiatrists were called shrinks.” That did it! I smiled, even laughed at her verbal abuse. My outrage was totally smothered in charm and wit. Of course I was a “shrink “. I had a Ph.D. and not an M.D., but nonetheless, at that time, I had been a “shrink “for 12 years. At that moment I was quite proud of the title, “shrink “.

My aunts’ naiveté was forgivable, but I was left with several revived, yet unresolved conflicts. Foremost was the desire for the real title of Doctor. By that I mean the Doctor of Medicine, i.e. M.D. I had been granted a Doctor of Philosophy in 1969. The title sounded grand, but I had never taken a philosophy course. Besides, everyone knows that the only Doctor worthy of that title is the M.D. type. Veterinarians, optometrists, psychologists and rabbis are granted the title of Doctor, but there is something almost immoral about their use of the title; “Thou shalt not call thyself Doctor, unless thou hast laid bare a cadaver, and/or written a prescription.” (Quote from Hippocrates).

Another stressful monologue that I recited behind my eyes, were the implications of the word “shrink “. Witch doctors, cannibals, and voodoo priests were my images of head shrinkers. If I did anything to clients, it was mind expansion, and character enrichment, and not brain shrinkage. How did the word “shrink “become part of the lexicon of psychology and psychiatry? Perhaps “shrink” is derived from the Chinese, as in shrunk, as in, “My shirt is shrunk “as in the hand laundry sense of Chinese. Nevertheless, my Aunt Alice unknowingly raised serious concerns about popular confusions regarding psychologists and psychiatrists.

The initial confusion appears to be due to the shared first four letters, p-s-y-c-h. Both professions borrow from the Greek word, psyche; that is breath, life or soul. The ” trist ” in psychiatrist is derived from the Middle English word for sad, and Middle French, triste. That leaves us with Psychiatrists who ponder, “sad souls “. The “gist “in Psychologist is derived from the Latin, jacere, meaning more adjacent, or the essence of a matter. Enfin, the Psychologist concerns himself with the essence of souls. The linguistic approach clearly suggests that both Psychologists and Psychiatrists do not engage in “shrinking “anything.

There are several differences between the two disciplines that are noteworthy. Psychiatrists usually charge higher fees for a therapy session. Psychologists sometimes refer to their patients as clients. Psychiatrists never refer to their patients as anything other than patients. Psychiatrists can admit patients to a hospital mental ward, whereas Psychologists usually cannot. Psychologists administer and interpret intelligence and personality tests, and Psychiatrists give drugs. They have more drugs to administer, then Psychologists have tests. Many psychologists would gladly turn in their test kits for the right to prescribe drugs, and watch the ‘ cures ‘ roll in.

Every Psychologist envies the Psychiatrists prescription pad and the power it holds. One might ask, who came first, well I’ll tell you. At the beginning there were Philosophers, the likes of Aristotle, Descartes, and Kant. Following that philosophical tradition, the “science “of human behavior evolved to be studied by Psychologists.

The treatment of mental diseases has traditionally been the province of the medical profession that is psychiatry. Historical events, such as the World War II, prompted the rapid emergence of the Clinical Psychologist as a “shrinker.”  There now exists an uneasy truce between the two professions, and peace will reign as long as the number of patients and, or clients remains high. In recent years, the Social Worker has joined the fray.  The competition for “sad souls” will be fierce should humankind achieve a greater measure of self-worth and good will.



Whose on First?

Hadi al-Ameri, a leader of arab militia, said that he and his militia did not need United States help to take the city of Takrit. “We don’t trust the American –led coalition in combating ISIS. In the past, they have targeted our security forces and dropped aid to ISIS by mistake. We don’t need the American-led coalition to participate in Tikrit. Tikrit is an easy battle, we can win it ourselves. In fact he ordered about 10,000 of militia to leave the battlefield due to recent US bombings. “We have not yet decided if we will pull out or not.” I thought, “when you’re ready, just clue me in. In the meantime I just try and stay alive.”

One should not forget (if at all possible) that the Iraq’s are primarily Shia, and Iranians are primarily Sunni. The Houthi are Shiite, but they are Zaydi Shiite and they are not the same religiously as other Shiites. Actually the Houthi are closer to Sunni Moslems than other Shiites.

How is that for an opening statement. You and I might smile, or perhaps even sneer at the relationships and attitudes cited above, but to those Arabs the differences are matters of life and death, although not always. It so happens that lately, Sunni and Shiite fighters are engaging the ISIS and other bad guys in Yemen, Iraq and probably other places that are yet to be discovered.

An Iraqi leader  (the name is irrelevant) suggested that fighters should refrain from flying Shiite religious banners, suggesting that better efforts should be made to involve Sunnis in the fight. The American representatives suggested that they wanted to work with Iraqi forces they had helped train and insisted on “deconflicting” with the Iranian-backed militias so they would not bomb them be mistake. Fortunately, the Shiite militias have generally been on the east side of the Tigris River, so it should be possible to avoid any errors. “Errors” as in collateral damage, and “oh shit, no way”, and the inevitable “whatever.”

The American representative that generated the “deconflicting” term has since received offers from Webster’s Collegiate publishing house. Actually we all prefer, composing as against decomposing, generation as against degeneration, and certainly flowering as against deflowering.


So What’s New?

I’ll tell you what’s new. The shoulder carry cam recorder. The renewed, and advanced police dash board camera. The enhanced sound technology in each camera. And most importantly is the requirement that all active, on patrol police officers must be wearing their camera (turned to on). Dash board cameras must be activated.

What else is new? Videos of police car chases, horrendous car crashes, traffic stops, police wrestling offenders, offenders running down highways and into the woods, 3 or more police officers attempting to subdue an offender, several officers standing around watching the tussle, and so on. At times the video is accompanied by a sound track of grunts, heavy breathing, police demanding cooperation, victim gasping for breath, cries of innocence, etc.

In sum the television audience can now view a real ‘crime’ scene while enjoying a Subway sandwich, or washing the dishes. Cameras have always been able to capture the beauty of cherry blossoms in D.C. Now we can have a live second feature of death and dying in D.C.

What is my point? My focus is not the new, but the old. Old, as in biblically old. Old as in the dna of mankind. Bigotry, and racism! Racism trumps all technology. Racism trumps all verbal expressions of brotherhood, good-will, compassion, empathy, etc. Now that we see it, hear it, and before it didn’t exist? Now we are witnesses to the event, or almost witnesses to the event. Maybe we missed the scene prior to the captured event. Maybe the camera was off, and then on, or on and then off. Maybe the video was accidentally erased, or blurry. Maybe the voice heard was not who we think it was, or maybe, just maybe everything about the data is messed up.

Once again, my point is that technology is not a cure for the overriding existence of systemic racism in our nation. Racism that generates ignorance, ill-will, fear and all too often gun shots.


The following conversation between the President, Vice President and the Secretary of Defense was revealed by appeal to the Freedom of Information Act.

President: I appreciate you coming in on Sunday. I know that you both had plans, so thanks.

Vice President: Mr. President, it’s no problem.

Sec. of Defense: Right.

Vice President: Mr. President, why are we here?

Sec. of Defense: Say, do we have any coffee?

President: Sure. Over by the bar. There’s instant, and some Coffee Mate.

Sec. of Defense: Right.

Vice President: So, what’s up?

President: I need your input on our Interrogation procedures. I’m supposed to decide on what to do, but it’s a procedure that I’m not familiar with.

Vice President: No problem. Say Rumsfeld, why don’t you give a brief run-down on our Interrogation procedures.

Sec. of Defense: Sure., but I think we should be careful what we say.

Vice President: Why? It’s just us.

President: The VP is right. What we say here stays here.

Sec. of Defense: Yeh, I know that, but you never know who is bugging this room.

President: What the hell are you talking about? This is my office. I know if bugging is happening or not.

Sec. of Defense: Sir, you, yourself have ordered that all conversations in this office be recorded.

President: I know that. I’m the decider.  I have the right to erase any conversations that I want to.

Sec. of Defense: I know Sir. But before you get to erase, the content may be snuck out. It’s a possibility. I just want to be careful, that’s all.

Vice President: Mr. President, maybe he’s right.

President: Okay. Let’s get going.

Sec. of Defense: Well when we counsel with a terrorist, I mean client, we have many interview techniques. I’ll start with the easiest.

President: Great. Sounds real interesting.

Sec. of Defense:  Well, we start by getting some basic information.

Vice President: Like what?

Sec. of Defense: Name, address, race, religion, education.  Date and place of birth. Things like that.

President: Sounds good. Clients can’t mind that too much.

Sec. of Defense: Sometimes it’s a problem.

Vice President: Why?

Sec. of Defense: Many clients don’t speak English.

Vice President: But we have translators, don’t we?

Sec. of Defense: Well some, but not as many as we need.

President: I don’t understand. What’s the problem?

Sec. of Defense: Well we used to have a lot more translators, but many of them were American, but also Arab-American, and American Moslems..

President: So?

Sec. of Defense: Trust, sir. It’s a matter of trust.

President: Oh. Gotcha.

Vice President: Weren’t any trustworthy?

Sec. of Defense: Maybe, but then some were also Gay.

Vice President: Cut it out. Who cares, as long as they could translate.

Sec. of Defense: But sir, they were outspoken Gays. I had no choice but to dismiss them from the service. That’s the rule. You know, don’t ask, don’t show, don’t tell, and don’t touch. (giggle).

President: Whatever! Can you proceed anyway?

Sec. of Defense: We do out best Sir.

Vice President: What do you do?

Sec. of Defense: We draw pictures and sometimes the clients act as translators for other clients.

President: Sounds creative – real interesting.

Vice President: Can you trust one client with another?

Sec. of Defense: It’s a chance we have to take. Besides, who cares about name, address, religion or any of that stuff. That first interview is just to act friendly. Build a relationship. The facts are really unimportant.

President: I can see that. You’re right. Who cares how old they are. They’ll be dead soon (giggle).

Vice President: Sir, please be careful.

President: So what happens next?

Sec. of Defense: Then we take them to the Therapy room.

Vice President: What do you mean Therapy room? What the hell is that?

President: Relax, Dick.

Sec. of Defense: Yeh, relax. Therapy, as in personality change.

President: Gotcha.

Vice President: Sounds great, but any Water Boarding?

Sec. of Defense: You mean dunking, don’t you?

Vice President: No, I mean Water Boarding!

Sec. of Defense: Listen, Dick, we do not torture.

President: That’s right!

Vice President: Than what the hell is Dunking?

Sec. of Defense: Like Dunking at Halloween. You know for apples.

Vice President: Are you kidding. Dunking for apples?

Sec. of Defense: And sometimes when the client bites into an apple, there is a surprise.

President: Surprise. I like that. What surprise?

Sec. of Defense: Well it’s like a Gillette surprise.

Vice President: Do all apples have the Gillette surprise?

Sec. of Defense: You got it.

President: What do the clients do?  – Do they say anything?

Sec. of Defense: Some say Ouch!

President: Do they give any information?

Sec. of Defense: Some do, and others just keep eating the apple.

Vice President: And then what?

Sec. of Defense: Well what do you think happens? Come on Dick. Did you ever try and eat a Gillette?

Vice President: Sorry, but you then don’t have any information.

Sec. of Defense: Right, but we’ve got dozens of other clients, and some confess immediately. Intensive therapy is only a last resort. Some clients are so soft-hearted and foolish that they will admit everything, true or false. Others handle Therapy easily. Some clients are so stubborn, that all Intensive Therapy techniques fail.

President: What do you do then?

Sec. of Defense: Well, since all the clients are guilty, or they wouldn’t be with us, we just do the best we can.

Vice President: What do you mean?

Sec. of Defense: I’m glad you asked. This is the most interesting part of the Therapy system. You see, I have hired several T.V. writers from shows like CSI, and Law and Order. When needed they can piece together a solid story for a client. Then all we need is a signature. An X will do.

President: But what about the needed intelligence? We need the information.

Sec. of Defense: Look, Mr. President, relax. We are winning on the ground, right.

President: Right?

Vice President: And we have had no repeat of 911, right?

President: Right.

Sec. of Defense: So considering that we hardly speak their language, and we don’t torture I think that we are doing pretty damn good without any intelligence.

President: You may be right. Who the hell needs intelligence. Look fellows I’ve got to fix some fencing at the ranch. Keep up the good work.