We Know Who You Are, and We Saw What You Did.

Rarely do I ever have a more conflicted feeling about anything than I do about the conduct of Julian Assange through his site, WikiLeaks.  A big part of me worries about the human carnage that might result from the information he’s made public.  But that information is now out there, and can’t be taken back.  Innocent people might die as a result of these disclosures.

But future peoples might on the other-hand, live if these embarrassing facts result in a healthy change in the direction of this world and our country in particular.  I’d have preferred these factoids to have been leaked during the previous American administration, as that’s when the worst of this world’s international corruption comfortably found refuge.  Most of the the worst American “embarrassment” of revelations, doubtlessly happened within the years of 2000 to 2008.  Again, this becomes another blow-out protector problem with roots firmly ensconced in the 8 year disaster known as the Bush/Cheney administration.  And dropped conveniently in Obama’s lap.

We all want to see transparency in theory, but can we deal with what we learn once the opaque veil is lifted?

I am so torn as to how to feel about what has transpired that my reactions fluctuate between hope, tempered with confusion and grave foreboding.  So much so that I’m not able to come around to a committed conclusion on the topic one way or the other.  

I’ll have to wait and see how it shakes out.

I have great admiration for Michael Moore, and I hope he’s right in his decision to post bond for Julian Assange.  The ‘rape’ allegations based on a broken condom seem flimsy and suspicious at best.  I’ve worn countless condoms in my second-string career as a gay Don Juan — and I’ve never experienced a breakage — ever.  Maybe I’m not hung enough to tear a Trojan.  But my senior graduating class was severely chastised for dropping water-filled condoms – the size of ginormous watermelons out of the window of the hotel during our senior class trip to Washington, DC.  I did not attend, due to high-school conduct unbecoming, and was kept home by my parents under the advise of my guidance councilor.  Otherwise the whole prank debacle might have been my idea.  So on that count, I’m innocent by having the excuse of being absent from the scene, writing a past due term-paper.

With regard to broken condoms, I offer the following instructional video.  By the way, condoms are — after all — transparent.


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