One of my favorite West Wing episodes is entitled A Proportional Response. BRAVO has been replaying old episodes since election season just passed, and it has served as an enjoyable respite during lunch since I am only 3-5 min walk from home nowadays.
The gist of the episode is what is an acceptable show of force for the U.S. after a Syrian terrorist shoots down a passenger jet carrying civilians and military personnel on a medical mission. The fictional president is enraged and would like to have a show of force that is like the "hand of God", and show the world what the consequences are for harming an American life overseas. I would be lying if I said I do not agree with that thought.
As the episode continues, a more measure, reasoned response is decided upon, the "Proportional Response", where the Syrian intelligence agency and couple of other key targets are destroyed, harming no civilians. Ultimately, this is the right approach. The U.S. cannot just act as the "hand of God". Argentina can, however, as Diego Maradona proved in 1986.
In high school, 10th grade, my friends and I during 7th period chemistry at approximately 3:03PM on a fall afternoon, decided that we were nation-states. Literally, we were nation-states. Some people chose to be England or France or Belgium or Egypt or America or Brazil or China or whomever. We would then make "strategic alliances" when "dissing" on another person. For example, if I were America and my friend were South Africa, I would not make fun of his shirt that he was wearing that day unless I had a multinational coalition with me.
Hilarious. This lasted for about 2 months before we went on to the next joke. I cannot remember who I was, I think I was Switzerland. I like watches, I like chocolate, I stayed out of fights, but I had dirt on everyone, kind of like Swiss and how they store everyone's money.
Anyways, I think the concept of a person treating their relationships with other people is much like a nation-state. I was at a bar on Saturday night watching football, and USC fans proceeded to demonstrate their amazing eloquence to me: "Fuck Texas." In this situation, a charged comment from a non-ally, non-friend, I consider this comment akin to a chemical or biological attack on my nation-state. I proceeded to reply, "41-38, scoreboard, bitches."
I think they said something after that, but my my proportional response was over; nothing more needed to be said to those no talent douche clowns.
On Monday, my labmate made a comment about how another labmate's baby spat up when I walked in the room because I am ugly. My friend, she made the comment, and it was somewhat funny. My proportional remark was a mighty guffaw, followed by a comment about how her maternal instinct is that of a rock or dirt or something and the baby sensed it.
Last week, I erred, however. It was late, I was trying to get home before 8:45pm to call the love of my life who is 3 hrs ahead on East coast. A guy cut in line in front of me at the Subway, even though his sandwich was no where near completion. He had long, messy hair, unshaven, prolly a postdoc or grad student. "Hey hippy, get back in line; don't cut." He looked at me hurt, wounded, then pissed. I did not really care, he cut, and my perception was that he was delaying me. I did not really feel bad about it until this weekend and the USC turds. Those guys deserved that level hate, vitriol. This hungry guy at Subway was annoying, but probably deserved a more measured response.
So, I think there is something to all this. A proportional response is not a sign of weakness to the outside, but rather, a show of restraint and therefore, strength. Something to remember for the future.
As the episode continues, a more measure, reasoned response is decided upon, the "Proportional Response", where the Syrian intelligence agency and couple of other key targets are destroyed, harming no civilians. Ultimately, this is the right approach. The U.S. cannot just act as the "hand of God". Argentina can, however, as Diego Maradona proved in 1986.
In high school, 10th grade, my friends and I during 7th period chemistry at approximately 3:03PM on a fall afternoon, decided that we were nation-states. Literally, we were nation-states. Some people chose to be England or France or Belgium or Egypt or America or Brazil or China or whomever. We would then make "strategic alliances" when "dissing" on another person. For example, if I were America and my friend were South Africa, I would not make fun of his shirt that he was wearing that day unless I had a multinational coalition with me.
Hilarious. This lasted for about 2 months before we went on to the next joke. I cannot remember who I was, I think I was Switzerland. I like watches, I like chocolate, I stayed out of fights, but I had dirt on everyone, kind of like Swiss and how they store everyone's money.
Anyways, I think the concept of a person treating their relationships with other people is much like a nation-state. I was at a bar on Saturday night watching football, and USC fans proceeded to demonstrate their amazing eloquence to me: "Fuck Texas." In this situation, a charged comment from a non-ally, non-friend, I consider this comment akin to a chemical or biological attack on my nation-state. I proceeded to reply, "41-38, scoreboard, bitches."
I think they said something after that, but my my proportional response was over; nothing more needed to be said to those no talent douche clowns.
On Monday, my labmate made a comment about how another labmate's baby spat up when I walked in the room because I am ugly. My friend, she made the comment, and it was somewhat funny. My proportional remark was a mighty guffaw, followed by a comment about how her maternal instinct is that of a rock or dirt or something and the baby sensed it.
Last week, I erred, however. It was late, I was trying to get home before 8:45pm to call the love of my life who is 3 hrs ahead on East coast. A guy cut in line in front of me at the Subway, even though his sandwich was no where near completion. He had long, messy hair, unshaven, prolly a postdoc or grad student. "Hey hippy, get back in line; don't cut." He looked at me hurt, wounded, then pissed. I did not really care, he cut, and my perception was that he was delaying me. I did not really feel bad about it until this weekend and the USC turds. Those guys deserved that level hate, vitriol. This hungry guy at Subway was annoying, but probably deserved a more measured response.
So, I think there is something to all this. A proportional response is not a sign of weakness to the outside, but rather, a show of restraint and therefore, strength. Something to remember for the future.
