Yesterday when I learned that Great Britain was releasing an Iranian prisoner, quietly and with little fanfare, and with an assurance that this is completely and totally unrelated to the current dispute with Iran, holding sixteen British hostages over a border dispute (which is followed up with the customary sable rattling, and the customary conspiracy theory that “Here it is!  Remember the Maine!”), my thought was:

“Better than even chance Iran will release the prisoners within 48 hours.”

And so it is done.  A more malignant speculation as to what just happened is, “It’ll be about twenty years before the information comes out as to what weapons were handed to the Iranian government.”  Nay.  Never.
Or something about Syria. 

Or we could point to this as a repeat of an incident three years ago which ended with the unspectacular conclusion of Great British officials mumbling that they probably did wander into Iranian waters in what is murkily defined territory.  But that was, like, a thousand years ago and a thousand planets away in news cycle terms.
Gawd, I hate this world sometimes.   It’s all so very gray.  I need the comforts of black and white, damnedit!

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