You don’t hear much about Afghanistan or Iraq lately. Lately it’s all about BP’s feeble attempts to stuff its greasy genie back into its mile-deep bottle, the final episode of “Lost” or whether Obama is too Spocklike to be president (after eight years of Alfred E. Neuman, Spock looks pretty damn’ good to some of us).

Maybe because it’s been five years since Darth Cheney famously announced that the Iraqi insurgency was in its last throes. The American public has the attention span of a meth-addled fruit fly (“Oooh, iPad!”), and frankly, it’s pretty easy to draw those red-white-and-blue eyeballs away from a couple of meat grinders that just patiently chew up and spit out our brothers and sisters in uniform.

Nevertheless, for today, at least, let’s take a moment to think about all those folks who won’t be hanging out beside the Weber with a cold one, shooting the shit instead of getting shot at.

And thank your lucky stars you are not a member of the Heritage Lakes Homeowners Association in Frisco, Texas. You ever get the feeling we’re bombing the wrong people?