It
is
precisely
when
it
appears
most
truthftll
that
the
image
is
most
diabolical.
-Jean
Baudrillard
ike
most
Americans
last February,
I
was hooked
onthe
new
CNN
sports
series
War
in
the
Gulf.
It
didn't
sound
strange
to
me
when
a
friend
said
he
djdn't
know
whether
he
wanted
to
watch
the
War
or
the
Lakers
game
that
evening.
They
were fairly
indistinguishable.
Both
commentated
by
fatuous men
well
removed
from
the action.
Indeed,
in
the case
of
the
War,
one
wondered
if
there
even
was
any
action.
The
closest
one
got
to
that
was theoccasional footage
of
peoplescurrying
around
in
the
darkness
following
a
Scud
warning,
followed byan
blurry
flash of
distant
fireworks
as
the
Patriot
took
out the
Scud.
Which
was,
in
a
way,
a
perfect
metaphor
for
the
abstraction
and
bloodlessness
of
this
new
form
of combat.
A
missilewould emerge
without
any
tangible
point
of
origin,
its
senders
anonymous and devoid
of
human characteristics.
A
machine
would
detect
it,
another
wouldplot
its
trajectory,
and a
thirdwould
rush
out
to
kjll it.
It
was likean
aca
demic
argument.
Flesh
and
bone were milesaway
from
anything
thatmight
rend them.
Finally,
after
weeks
of
this shadow-boxing,
it
was
determined
that
the
map of
Kuwaithad been
sufficiently
revised
that
it
wasnow
safe
to
send
in
live
Americans.
Personally,
Istillhad
such
fear
of
the Republican
Guard that
I thought
we
should
soften
themsome
more. What
I thought
we faced
was
an
army
as
large
as
ours,
toughened
by
almost
a
decade
of
the
nastiest
combat since
World War
I,
comprised
of
Muslim fanatics,
each
convinced
that
death
in
battle
was
just a
quicker
trip
to
Paradise. Certainly
more
than a
match
for
a
bunch
of
rag-tag
American kids
who'd
joined
the
military because
they
couldn't
get
a
job
at
the
7-11.
/J!londo
411'»
2ooo