The River

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

I know that the U.S. employed torture, or rented it out, in its foreign affairs since before I was born, but to be confronted with it this past week is to see something ugly and vile in your basement that you'd managed to ignore while you got on with your life. Something ugly and vile and threatening.

When are we going to stand up and say, "enough"? When are we going to stop pretending? And how the heck did you 60s era activists handle this stuff? Because I, I put it down over the weekend. Here it is. But after you read it, just know that I'm getting stronger, not weaker.

They Shoot Horses, Don't They?

It starts with six simple words: this is my country doing this. Where it leads? H. E. double L.

What’s that quote? You hate America because you want to love America. Try being America. This is my fucking country doing this.

This is, well hell, this is the fourth reich. It is out of the bag, folks.

Some of us on the net here have been pointing it out for quite a while now.

I know I have. Reading about it too. Remember that 50s genre called the noir thriller? Thomspon, Goodis, Willeford? Yeah, well here we are. Psychotic, violent, on a road to hell. Only it ain’t some two-bit lowlife. It’s the most powerful criminal organization ever seen.

You know what’s interesting about those novels? It’s that you start down that road, and things go from bad to worse, and then, well, the bottom comes up real fast.

It’s interesting in a horrific cautionary tale kinda way, when you read them. Those authors were brilliant psychologists. But now, this ain’t no storybook. I can’t just put it down and…hell, I can’t remember what I did with my life back then.

But, see, I have a family now. How badly are these fawned-over media heroes going to fuck it up for them? What, exactly, am I supposed to do? Where, exactly, am I supposed to go? Just how hard will we hit bottom?

I feel shitty. S. H. I. TT. Y. Love, hate America. It's not important. We are citizens of the globe, people. You are American, Iraqi, South African, Korean. Japafuckingnese.

Fuck. This is just a wail of pain. Forgive me. I thought maybe it could be instructive. But I’m not that smart. I have a pretty good bullshit detector, that’s about it. The only problem with that is, well, you can’t be too enamored with it. Having kids will remind you of that. Theirs is ten times better than mine.

It comes back to this, and I’m just gonna say it. These are crimes against humanity. This is daylight robbery of the soul.

Am I talking about this screwed up soldier or that one? No. It could be me, it could be you, shoved into the right heinous circumstances, like never, ever having any grounding in love.

But this, godamn it, this system. This ability to turn a human being into a thing to be used for an end, and to cover it all over with glamour, and bullshit, and righteousness. To make it look….reasonable. To completely lose sight of the consequences.

There is no ground. We are falling.

And we will finally see it. The ground. It will, at some point, come up fast.

Godamnit. This is my country. And I feel so helpless.

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