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Posted by parhad (Guest) - Wednesday, December 15 2004, 17:41:17 (CET)
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...I'm in the uncomfortable position of having a son rapidly approaching 18...draft age. I see the usual "experts" parading across the TV screens saying how they need more soldiers so obviously not enough are dying to defend their country by killing innocent people...as if by killing people we're going to have peace and prosperity, for the common people. Certainly we have Americans profiting from war and theft...while the rest of us pay.

It's a tough decision for an 18 year old to make. Didn't know how immature I was at that age until I saw 18 year olds from this perspective...I mean being 57 myself. What's he supposed to do? This kind of war has no glory...brings only nightmares and horror with it for years to come because it's almost impossible to maintain the fiction that the young men and women are protecting their country when they see the faces of the young barefoot Iraqis they are going to be shooting and blowing apart.

It's bad enough when you HAVE to kill someone...the images never leave you. But to be so clearly in the wrong...to be used as if you had no soul or conscience, made to do such terrible things to innocent people scars them for life. And in time, when more people come to their senses and wake up from this drum roll of death...we at home will hate ourselves as well for what we did and won't wish to be reminded...and we will turn our backs on those whom we sent to blacken all our names.

In time we're going to hate the soldiers we now cheer on. And they will hate themselves and us too..and the Iraqis and that many other Muslims will hate us and the Europeans will once again spit at our tourists and hate the sight of them...and the band plays on...

When we enshrined billionaires and dreamed of winning the Lotto and yearned for lifestyles of the rich and famous, we set ourselves on this course...we showed unscrupulous people the way to chain us all together and bend us to their will...which was nothing more than our unconscious desire to be like the very people who rule us...instead of despising the Master we wanted to be him. We asked for it...we begged for it...we lay awake nights and dreamed of it...we fantasized about it every time we wanted an expensive car or jewelry or another expensive meal out.

We let our imaginations run wild, our desires pile up one on top of the other until we willingly handed over more and more control over our lives to corporations whose leaders became our modern heroes. If you live on the Plantation and are jealous for the priviliages of the Master, instead of despising him...you keep your chains tight round you...you weild the whip that beats you...you offer up your own children for sale.

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