As we continue to be plagued by sand-poundingly stupid whining about the blatantly imaginary "moratorium on dissent" since September 11th, here is a genuine dissenter, a poet in favour of the war. Frederick Turner is the author of, among other things, The New World and Genesis, two very fun and intelligent science fiction novels cast as epic poems (the first has an almost mythological feel, and a neo-classicist, post-apocalyptic setting; the second is set in the near future and concerned with the colonization of Mars). Mr. Turner is a poet of a regrettably rare sort, one who can make scientific subject matter strikingly beautiful without transforming it into sentimental nature mysticism. Goethe and Ted Hughes (scroll down to 'Pike') also possessed such talents. I personally find that such poetry can be eerily evocative even when it is undoubtably risible, as with Erasmus Darwin or James Grainger:

Tell me what viands land or streams produce
The large, black, female, moulting crab excel?