I didn’t write a malaka of the week post last week but the malakatude kept rolling. This week’s winner is some hairbag I’d never heard of before but Bryan Fischer is a class-A malaka and worthy of this “honor.” This douchebag is the “issues” director of the American Family Association and he’s also a guy who puts the ass in association.

While the rest of America celebrated theheroism and humility of Medal of Honor winner Sgt. Salvatore Giunta, Mr. Fischer slammed the selection in apost at his AFA blog:

We have feminized the Medal of Honor. According to Bill McGurn of the Wall Street Journal, every Medal of Honor awarded during these two conflicts has been awarded for saving life. Not one has been awarded for inflicting casualties on the enemy. Not one.

Gen. George Patton once famously said, “The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other guy die for his.” [Note: Patton either said bastard or son of a bitch. He was a cussing General. So, fuck you for misquoting him, Malaka Fischer.]

When we think of heroism in battle, we used the think of our boys storming the beaches of Normandy under withering fire, climbing the cliffs of Pointe do Hoc while enemy soldiers fired straight down on them, and tossing grenades into pill boxes to take out gun emplacements. That kind of heroism has apparently become passe when it comes to awarding the Medal of Honor. We now award it only for preventing casualties, not for inflicting them.

So the question is this: when are we going to start awarding the Medal of Honor once again for soldiers who kill people and break things so our families can sleep safely at night? I would suggest our culture has become so feminized that we have become squeamish at the thought of the valor that is expressed in killing enemy soldiers through acts of bravery. We know instinctively that we should honor courage, but shy away from honoring courage if it results in the taking of life rather than in just the saving of life. So we find it safe to honor those who throw themselves on a grenade to save their buddies.

I would suggest, sir that you’re a buffoon, idiot and, above all else, a malaka. I looked up Fischer’s bio and was “shocked” to learn that he’s another in a long line of blood thirsty chickenhawks with no military record. It’s very easy for an armchair warrior like Fischer to prattle on about the glory of killing when he’s never had to aim a weapon at anyone in his life. Neither have I but I have enough sense to know that when soldiers are in the field they’re fighting for their own lives and those of their comrades. If someone in your unit is killed, a part of you dies as well.

My father was a World War II veteran. He hated war and refused to discuss his war time experiences. I wish that he had but I know that whatever he went through was so painful that he had no interest in reliving it. He was a conservative Republican BUT hated guns and wouldn’t allow one in our house. He was an Army interpreter so I don’t know if he ever had to shoot at anyone but he thought war was a horrible thing that should only be waged when all else failed. I guess Malaka Fischer would consider that a sign of creeping feminization. I call it humanity. Of course, the only human life that creeps like him value is in vitro.

I have a pretty good idea of where the Bryan Fischers, Newt Gingriches and Dick Cheneys of the world got their sick and twisted notions about the “glory” of war: John Wayne movies. Guess what guys, John Wayne was a chickenhawk who dodged the draft in World War II and stayed in Hollywood to further his film career. Wayne spent the rest of his life overcompensating for this by being a rabid war lover, which is why his influence on “manly” rightwingers is so ironic.

The most fascinating thing about Malaka Fischer’s attack on Sgt. Giunta is that the latter is everything a hero should be. He’s modest, humble and self-sacrificing. He melted my icy blue heart when he said that he’d give up the medal in a heartbeat if he could bring his fallen friends back to life. That’s the stuff that real heroes are made of. To extend, and perhaps even strain, the cinematic analogy, Sgt. Giunta reminds me of Gary Cooper as Sgt. York, a soft spoken pacifist turned warrior whose heroism was motivated by the desire to protect his brothers in arms. We need more modest Gary Coopers and fewer strutting John Waynes in the world as well as more men like Salvatore Giunta and fewer malakas like Bryan Fischer.