Paul Kevin Curtis, the Tsarnaev Brothers and The Shame of Sun Tzu

The Con

With the events of last week now firmly (thank G-d) in the past, the post mortems have begun.  The whys, wherefores, and therefores of the Boston Bombers and the Ricin letter writer are being hotly debated on the 24/7 Cable TV news cycle.

Well these men and women, much smarter than I, try master the motives of abhorrent behavior and the darkest recesses of the human soul, I like to take a minute to offer some advice, criticism if you will, to Messer’s. Tsarnaev and Curtis on their various terroristic performances during the week of April 14, 2013.

Gentlemen it’s time to go back to terror school.  You failed Terrorism 101 and it showed.  So for the sake of intellectual honesty, we are going to go back and look at each of these campaigns and see where the weak sports were.

Let’s begin with Paul Kevin Curtis, the delightful Ricin letter writer from Mississippi.

Mr. Curtis, when mailing poison laced letters to public officials don’t sign them with your real name or initials. Use a pseudonym or some sort of evil sounding nom de plume. Your ignorance of proper letter laced with poison/bomb procedure has just made it that much harder for all the other terrorists out there. Schmuck.

This leaves us with the Boston Marathon Bombers, Tsarnaev brothers.

First of all gentlemen, you have to sort out what kind of bombers you intend to be: suicide or your run of the mill drop the bomb on the ground and run away sort.  If the former was your goal, then walking into a crowded event with cameras covering you from every angle was the way to go.  However, you chose the latter scenario.  So perhaps getting on the first boat out of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts was a better move than staying in the metropolitan Boston area.

Secondly, if you intend to get into a firefight with the heat and go out in a blaze of glory, then let the law enforcement professionals kill you.  Getting run over by the car you stole with your little brother driving and then said younger sibling repeats the same firefight mistake in a fucking boat less then 24 hours later does not make for good trade craft.  In fact it makes you fucking morons.

In retrospect, the moral of the stories of last week appears to be this: yes, these brilliant diabolical wanna be attacks are conceived by these losers looking to be Super Villains but they don’t come off as planned.  This is because the people behind the plots aren’t Lex Luthor.  They’re drooling idiots who believe what they read in the New York Post.

Somewhere Sun Tzu is getting drunk in shame.





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