"Use of Drones Intolerable" According to British Judge

I have often noticed that to those who have never put their butts on the line, the ability to strike a target without risking your life in the process seems unfair. Maybe so, but when it comes to war, it's been said that fair fights are for chumps, and I'm inclined to agree.

Today a senior British judge declared that the use of drones (Unmanned Aerial Vehicles) is "cruel as to be beyond the pale of human tolerance". He had nothing to say about how victims of the Taliban feel about them.

I have some peripheral experience with UAVs, and I thought I'd take this opportunity to tell you a little bit about it. I wrote the following letter during my second deployment, and I think it sums up pretty well how I feel about UAVs and whether using them is cruel.

Death From Above

We're at work. We're standing, eyes glued to one of the screens on the wall above us. Different images flicker elsewhere on the wall, but the one we're interested is grainy black and white video, transmitted live. We're watching because an indicator on the screen says the operator has designated a target. A moment later we get the word - a weapon has been released. Someone is about to die.

This scene has repeated itself many times over the last few days. It's one of few experiences that I've found is not diminished by repetition.

Am I remorseful? Do I feel for the men who, in a matter of seconds, will cease to exist? The place in my heart that would be occupied by remorse is scarred by images of a hostage slaughter house. The part of my mind that might harbor compassion is imagining a makeshift video studio, where Al Jazeera cameramen drank tea to the sounds of innocents' life blood gurgling in their windpipes.

The people we watch die are blissfully unaware. What are they discussing on that street corner? What is he thinking as he drives that car? Do they, for the split second before impact, wonder at the sound of wind, rushing over the stubby wings of the warhead? Even if they do - even if they hear the missile, homing inexorably from a vehicle so far away they never saw it, their brief shock is nothing to me. The searing flash, the concussion that separates their body from their soul bothers me not a bit. It is merciful.

It is not the weeks or months-long separation from friends and family, being held like livestock for a bargain that will never be struck. It is not the desperate sickness that invades the heart, knowing you will never see your family again. It is not the terror of knowing your captors consider you most valuable when your head is severed, dangling from their bloody fist in a television commercial for evil. It is not the grinding by of countless hours of loneliness and fear.

It is quick. It is better than they deserve. Far from regret, I am grimly satisfied at my role in this process.

Maybe it shocks you that I can appreciate beauty, love my family, and calmly contemplate killing men. It shouldn't. The understanding of good and evil and the willingness to act in the differentiation between them is fundamental to those more appealing characteristics.
I'm still me.

Steven

Camel Trio

I get a lot of requests for paintings of camels. This is the latest. Happy Independence Day, everybody.

Sand Storm Coming

The wind has increased over the last four days from a gentle but persistent breeze to a steady awning-ripper. Needless to say, the wind carries lots of sand, churning the sky into a murky billowing threat to eyes, nose, and throat. Still, it makes a good subject for a painting.

How to tell you've been in the studio too long

Sometimes I spend entirely too much time in my studio. When I was at home, I could rely on subtle hints from my family to let me know. That, and occasionally I would pass out from lack of food. Here though, I have only my cats to let me know that it's time to get out and do something else for a change. They do this by sliding their paws under the door and waving at me.

Drive Faster!!!

Here's something you don't see in your mirror every day - unless you drive the "Follow Me" truck at an airport, that is.

We're hard at work here at the embassy, getting ready for President Obama's visit to Saudi Arabia. Today I was working at one of the local airports, helping bring in aircraft carrying the personnel and equipment that arrive in advance of the President. I caught a ride in the truck that guides aircraft to their parking spots, and I snapped this shot in the mirror.

Afternoon in Jeddah

This one's been a long time in the making - especially if you count the amount of time I spent thinking about it before putting brush to paper. Even after I started it took me a fair amount of time to finish, partly because work has been time-consuming lately, and partly because this painting just took a while.

This is a full 22 X 30 inch sheet, so it's big for a watercolor. I've been doing that a lot lately - working large. I enjoy being able to add that level of detail, such as the title of the newspaper that's lying in front of the steps in the right hand middle ground. The resolution of this photo isn't good enough for you to read it, but if you were looking at the painting itself, you'd see that the newspaper is Al Riyadh.

Women in abayas are difficult to paint. No matter what you do, they look shapeless. Of course, that's the whole purpose of an abaya, so I suppose that means I'm getting it right. Still, it's not a very satisfying way to represent the human form.

Reading the News

Here's my finished painting. I added the newspaper as a last-minute inspiration. I think it adds a focal point - maybe not a visual one, but a focus of the attention of the three men - and gives the painting a story.

That's my theory, anyway.