Saint Paul was a jackass, my father muttered,
keystroking his tank into position in “The Mother
Of All Tank Battles.” I turned back to the screen,
maneuvering pixilated tanks. Each arrow key
altered trajectory, each cursor tap a tank blast. Fast-
forward two decades: in a cubicle outside Vegas,
Jonah joysticks his Predator above Afghanistan,
drone jockey hovering above a house on computer screen.
He knows someone’s inside. Is it his target? Who else
inside—cooking, crawling—will not o...
Published on April 20, 2019 18:14