Hung over, not from alcohol but from patriotic zeal abuse, I crawled out of bed this morning, performed initial ablutions, let Frunobulax out of her kennel and gave her a rawhide strip to keep her settled and quiet, made coffee and finally settled down with a fine cup of Chock Full 'O Nuts and a Winston cigarette to watch Adam Hochschild talk about The Great War. He pointed out that World War I was the last time the sons of aristocracy and the rich and powerful were sent off to war to fight and die in the front lines. Eeble, Sonk.
So, today's question is, "Why do we fight wars?" The short answer is that our brains haven't caught up the turbocharger we put on evolution, called by some, intelligence. I'm talking about a particular type, of course. You know what I mean.
So, we're mostly pretty stupid, "monkeys with car keys" according to Woody Allen. Being on the dole, I have plenty of time to think about this kind of thing. I realize it's an excercise in futility, but it helps when my pain medications aren't working.