Author's note: The following disclaimer is intended for the right-leaning reader, who may believe that analyzing the behavior of a highly decorated American military leader is akin to wrapping a healthy Caucasian infant in a gasoline-soaked American flag and setting the bundle aflame...while dressed like a Taliban guy.
My views are focused solely on the behavior of a man outside his workplace. I would never question the sacrifices he bore or the hardships he endured so that I may speak out in this forum.
Oh, and by the way, speaking of sacrifice, should we talk about Mrs. Petraeus, too? Yes, let's, but first a little backstory.
By now, we've all heard the sordid tale of David Petraeus, retired four-star general and driver of the F-150 that spun its tires a few times, but finally dragged a bloodied America out of a swampy, Mesopotamian cesspool.
Petraeus then loaned his rig to a friend with instructions to perform the same task in Afghanistan while the general swapped his canteen for a decoder ring to take over as head spymaster back stateside.
The general apparently decided, after gazing back upon his illustrious career, that maybe we, the inquiring public, might be intrigued by his personal memoir. Well, one thing led to another, and ultimately a woman with really toned arms and a slightly psychotic glare offered to pen his tale.
The book is entitled All In: The Education of General David Petraeus, and it's just criminally easy to write a one-liner about that.
Look, we dudes are weak, I think we all know this. Here are just a few examples of my own shortcomings:
On Saturday, I nearly convinced myself to orally rescue three pristine slices of pizza lying exposed on the gritty Costco parking lot. Mmmm...pizza.
The only reason I majored in accounting was because the Business School was the closest building to my fraternity and I only had to miss five minutes of "All My Children" to make it to class on time.
Last Wednesday, I declined a flu immunization because I mistakenly believed Walgreen's offered an oral version in Gummi Bear form.
So yeah, weak, party of one, your table is ready.
But I'm just a simpleton with the same security clearance as my cat. This guy Petraeus knows more secret stuff than a room full of Solo-Audited Operating Thetan Scientoligists, or, you know, a playground full of five-year old girls.
Who can say what the guy barked out in the throes of passion? We may never know exactly what he meant about troop deployments from the south being imminent, but the risk of leaks is inevitable.
I know, such cheap humor. Remember, I'm an irresolute male.
My point is, it's quite disturbing that this man who has exhibited the integrity to lead a nation in two wars and command its intelligence apparatus, has allowed his carnal appetite to compromise the security of many who have placed themselves in harm's way. That's frightening.
And now back to General Patraeus' wife, Holly, a woman who has taken care of business all these years on the home front, living in the wings while her husband climbed the political ladder. While I'm sure she derived some benefit, I wonder if, living somewhere beneath those layers of humiliation, shame and sadness, lies an anger at the injustice of it all.
Through no fault of hers, she's the third face in this scandal. And that really sucks.