I’m aware that my previous post represents a dark vision.
Sorry. That’s how I feel. I don’t support the troops, or the generals, or the politicians who hold onto power by scaring the daylights out of us and pandering to our bigotry and fear.
I don’t wish any harm to the troops. I wish them the best. I want them to be at home, or on the road, wherever they want to be, surfing, going to school, making babies, playing music, painting pictures, working or just hangin’ out. But I don’t care if I ever get another chance to “honor our fallen heroes,” and if the United States has decided that it’s necessary or even heroic to blow the fuck out of other countries and snuff hundreds of thousands of their citizens, well, you can just keep that. I want no part of it.
I know people with sons, brothers and friends in the U.S. military, and they — you — are afraid, and proud, and brave. Those of you who wait and hope, my thoughts and my love are with you. It tears my heart to see your worry and pain, and it makes me angry that you have to be “brave” over this bullshit. Where does it get us? Has anyone noticed that it never ends? That every time we “win” a war we set the stage for the next one? That the assholes who promote these conflicts are never the ones who suffer the amputations, the blindness, the bleeding, the total goddamned devastation?
I’m ashamed of this country, which I grew up loving, for the depravity it now carries out in the name of — what? Safety? Democracy? Jesus? Give me a break.
I’m ashamed of my party, the Democrats, for not having the courage to stop the killing now. We gave them majorities in Congress, and they are playing politics.
I’m ashamed of myself, for letting things go this far, and doing so little to help.