As a former teacher of creating writing (it was just one summer class for Colorado Mountain College in 1991) I have enjoyed reading the various defenses of waterboarding:
1) No one should know about it. Now that President Obama has recklessly released those legal memos, our enemies have gained knowledge of tactics that America doesn’t use any more, but this still weakens the nation somehow. However, we can still do our part for national security by pretending that we don’t know about it.
2) Waterboarding may have been considered torture in the past, but since American operatives did it, and America doesn’t torture, whatever it was must not be torture. This logic is so clear and simple that even a Volvo-driving secular humanist from Boulder ought to be able to grasp it. Waterboarding is really just like good-natured fraternity hazing, and only wimps would object.
3) Waterboarding is torture, but it’s an effective way to get important information, as could be conclusively proven if various now-classified documents were released. By this logic, bank robbery is a justifiable enterprise, since it can be an effective way to get money — at least until you get caught. So to keep it effective and to protect our homeland, let’s just be sure that nobody gets caught.
That seems to cover most of the torture apologists’ exercises in creative sophistry, though I’m sure they’ll come up with others: Waterboarding lowers your blood pressure; prisoners really enjoy waterboarding; waterboarding reduces carbon-dioxide emissions; waterboarding is a traditional family value, etc.
One defense of some waterboarders is that they are trying to follow the rules, and there were these convoluted memos from lawyers — one now a federal judge — which said the practice was legal. I have some sympathy for that position, as I’ve been trying to figure out how to obey a law now under consideration by our legislature. This one would make driving without a fastened seatbelt a primary offense. As it is, if a cop pulls you over for something else, like speeding, and your belt isn’t snapped, you can get a ticket for that, too. But he can’t pull you over just for not using your seat belt. SB 296 would change that.
I always wear my seat belt. But several years ago, our dog chewed up the front shoulder belts in our 1990 Geo Prizm. The lap belts remain, and we use them, but a passing cop could not see that the lap belts are buckled.
I read SB 296. I can’t tell whether using the lap belt without a shoulder belt conforms to the law. If it doesn’t, the law doesn’t explain where I’m supposed to find replacement shoulder belts. I’ve called many salvage yards to no avail, and Google hasn’t helped.
So, legislature, if you pass this law (there’s a $20 million bribe from the federal government), please tack on a provision that requires somebody somewhere to sell replacement belts. Or I might be tempted to take a waterboard to the statehouse the next time I visit civilization.
