Now who rules the waves?

As a fellow fiercely proud of his Celtic heritage, I've had my share of fun at the expense of the English. I can for example, recall evenings in Sofia, Bulgaria in the company of a slightly mad Irishman singing The Rising of the Moon, Carlow, and The Rifles of the IRA until the wee hours of the morning.

Nevertheless, I find that what I feel about the spectacle of the United Kingdom impotent against Iranian piracy in international waters, is an almost unbearable sadness. Fifteen sailors and Royal Marines were taken hostage, right under the guns of a Royal Navy warship which was specifically ordered not to fire on the takers. The British government is gravely concerned - so much so that they're going to grovel for all their worth to get their people back.

The Europeans don't know yet, but this marks the end of the dream of a united Europe, and maybe of Europe period. One of the biggest member states of both the EU and NATO alliance has been made to suffer humiliation - and no other state in their "Union" gives a rat's pattootie as long as the oil flows.

I read a story once, that after the evacuation of Dunkirk in the dark days at the beginning of World War II, a British admiral was subject to a Board of Inquiry that wanted to know if he hadn't perhaps endangered the fleet by bringing it in too close to shore to cover the evacuation. He replied, "We could have built a new fleet in five years. It would have taken 200 years to build a new tradition."

Watch events unfold, and weep for a once-noble tradition.