Thanksgiving is over (maybe there is a god) and the madness of Christmas begins.
I don't happen to celebrate either holiday but if I did I would be thankful for every time I open a can without pain, bend over and can stand straight again or walk to the mailbox. It's those little things in life I love. I am grateful every time it rains and the roof does not leak, every time I can take a hot shower or turn the thermostat up to a comfortable temperature. Let me not get started on how wonderfully fortunate I feel for every single meal to which I am able to sit down . You see everyday is a day of Thanksgiving for me. My home is fully equipped with electricity so the lights work, the heat works, the TV works, the PC I am typing on works. My phone works too. I have everything I need.
Many people of the world cannot say these things. Sadly in Iraq, they do not even have clean water to drink forget the showers. Oh my! The air and the land has been fouled with depleted uranium, millions are homeless and the savagery continues with no end in sight. Those who still have homes have become accustomed to the sight of the dead on the streets outside their doors. Worse still are the injured they dare not offer assistance. Is this the freedom we sought to bring them? Is it any wonder they hate us?
The bottom line is clear. The Iraqi people are not now nor have they ever been a concern for George W Bush and his cronies. This is about the oil. More than that it is about controlling an oil rich region. Now they have set their sights on Iran. More death, more destruction, more human suffering, more plundering, pillaging and more madness.
While the oppressed of the world suffer needlessly, Americans ponder what junk they will buy from China to appease one another and assure themselves they are loving Christians. If I wanted to buy a Christmas gift for someone I think it might be a book. Something from Molly Ivins or Bill Moyers. Maybe Howard Zinn or Noam Chomsky. Perhaps a nice massage to help one focus on a bit of introspection. As it is the greatest gift I have to give is to share what I know and help Dennis Kucinich win the election.
Yes the time has come for America to educate itself about the world and spirituality. America has become a culture of greed and facades. I miss the old days when people really had values. I am old enough to recall them you see. Time we recognize the suffering of others in this old world, the one we have all but destroyed to satisfy our endless needs. We really are our brothers keepers after all. We are all members of the human family and as such we owe a debt to the world to be fair, honest, caring and just plain good world citizens.
So how do we do this? I know how we don't do it. We don't do it by dropping bombs. We do it the Jimmy Carter, JFK, MLK, Ghandi way. There are no winners in war and armed conflict. Every soldier who has ever fought a war knows that. Thousands of American and Iraqi families can tell you that no soldier who participates in war is uninjured. Those 18 years olds we sent to Iraq will never be the same kids they were before. The entire nation of Iraq will be old, sick, bitter, unhappy and have a good solid case of PTSD not to mention the birth defects that result from DU. Dick Cheney, GW Bush, at times like this I wish I believed in hell for there would surely be a special place there for you and Rummy and Wolfowitz and the rest who engineered this horror. I am angry and I curse you. May you rot before you die.
Letter From Iraq
By Jennifer Cecere
Please think of me in the morning,
When you rise to start your day.
Think of me when you do your job
For I am so far away.
They sent me here to fight a war
And I really don’t know what it’s for
But my days and nights are full of gore
Please think of me.
Please think of me in the evening,
When you turn your TV on.
Think of me as you watch the news
Remember I am gone.
Please know that I am wracked with fear.
I wish so much that I was there
With you where all my thoughts were clear.
Please think of me.
Please think of me in the desert,
Where the heat is so hard to bear.
Where my greatest wish is a shower,
In a place where there’s never a care.
It’s the simple things I miss so much,
A drive to the store, McDonalds for lunch
A lottery ticket bought on a hunch
Oh, think of me.
Some days are harder than others
It depends on how things go.
Like when they kill my brothers,
And my spirits sink so low
I sit down and cry,
I wish I could die,
And I know it was all for lies.
Think of me.
The things that I see are so awful.
There is never a beautiful sight
It’s all very grim and woeful
And the future does not look bright
I see babies die, I hear mothers cry
I hear fathers vow revenge.
They pick up their guns
For we’ve killed their sons
And the nightmare never ends.