Sunday, December 17, 2006

THE UNITED STATES OF Barbarity

I don’t know if ‘barbarity’ is a word or not. It’s probably barbarism, but I like barbarity better, so I'm sticking with it.

I live in the United States of Barbarity.

Until we get every single solitary person in this so-called country a place to live, the United States of Barbarity is where I live. I am sick to death of having my sister and fellow Americans dying in rags in cardboard boxes in the streets. It’s getting more than I can bear. It’s disgusting, sickening, nauseating, revolting, appalling, infuriating, and maddening.

I am deeply ashamed to call myself American. But I’m not American, and neither are you. We live in the U.S. of Barbarity. Unless of course you live in South America; they try to move together without leaving some people behind (until, that is, the U.S. of Barbarity goes down and offs any leader who cares about the people -- read John Perkins' Confessions of an Economic Hit Man).

The land my ancestors called ‘America’ wasn’t a land where human beings left other human beings out in the snow to die. The America my ancestors “fought and died for” is lost, gone, flown the coop as they say on the farm. Who knows to where.

3 comments:

Paul said...

Living on the other side of the ocean it is hard to comment but I share your sense of shame in saying I am English. There is never a shortage of money to buy arms, invade weaker countries and build nuclear submarines but schools suffer and hospitals close. We continue to export military equipment to all comers and are delighted to get big orders from Saudi Arabia who, of course, have an unblemished record on human rights and the equality of women.

Morgaine said...

I'm sick of it, too, Sis. I can't believe the money that gets wasted on all manner of obscene weapons and pork projects while kids and their moms sleep on the streets. It makes me sick.

btw - Barbarity is a real, and really quite useful, word. ;-)

SOPKA said...

Good old America used to hang teenagers for stealing bread to feed themselves. What what our history is in reality and what our mythos is, the mythos always sounds better than it really was.