The Resort at Myanmar

October 4th, 2007

“What’s Myanmar?”, a friend of mine asks while we’re grouped near the tv.

“Burma,” I reply.

“Oh yeah…Burma,” he says.

I don’t blame him for not knowing what Myanmar is, because it sounds like one of those getaway resorts with topless women, newly married couples, and single confused men looking to get laid. Soldiers clubbing people in Myanmar should read more like, “Soldiers out clubbing with patrons of Myanmar’s night club scene.”How do these dictators round up so many soldiers whose job it is to go out into the streets and beat their fellow citizens with clubs? Do they recruit sociopaths? Do they offer hookers and a lot of extra cash for every head wound they inflict? Are the soldiers given privileges others are denied? What motivates them to do what they do to their fellow citizens?

There’s an obvious attempt among some nations to recruit the dumbest and the most obedient to serve as guardians of the status quo. Amsterdam does it. Citizens of the city refer to these cops as “ hillbillies” because they’re recruited from the nearby boondocks outside the city. These cops aren’t at all sensitive to politically correct procedures often infused by home grown Amsterdam cops who tend to be cautious about all confrontations and do their best to be cordial and helpful. Besides, growing up in Amsterdam and wanting to become a cop is a rather strange pursuit given that most everyone in this fortified city of libertarian access to freedom has at one time or another smoked weed. Killer weed. 41% THC type weed.


Send some “home grown” Amsterdam cops to deal with the monks raising hell in Myanmar . A couple of hits on that Burmese Golden Tiger sativa ought to bring everyone, including the palace guards of the established dictatorship, back to the table to settle the dust and death rising from Myanmar’s cities. And once that happens, we can all go back to believing that Myanmar is one of those expensive Caribbean resorts minus the open head wounds.

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