Trent Lott poked a little hole in the veil at Strom Thurmond’s “party.” Politicians and used car dealers but are known for stretching both truth and lies so they blend nicely and resemble a pretty smile. Prestidigitation turns a clunker into a cream puff, and they expect us to admire the art and buy the image. All is really well, they assure us, and they love us all, and it’s only a matter of money. But sometimes the veil gets torn and we get a quick glance behind it.
Such a fissure was opened the other night by these two politicians who are well known for loving everyone, especially blacks, when Lott spoke of how he was proud to have voted for Thurmond for president of the United States in 1948, proud that the great and sovereign state of Mississippi had cast its electoral votes for Thurmond, and that if the rest of the nation had done the same, “. . . we would have avoided all this trouble!” (Great Applause!!!) This with an foolishly grinning, apparent cadaver sitting slumped in a wheel chair next to him. The veil was sundered for a moment, and suddenly we all knew just what these good-ole boys actually think and say when they are not in the public eye, back together in those “rooms” that used to be filled with smoke.
We also get a view of how the Senate members must operate when they feel they are away from public view, when they feel momentarily free from the need to Play Dumb on Purpose for the benefit of their electorate. Remember, Lott is the man they have chosen (and appear ready to do so again) to speak for all U.S. Senators. He is also a leading spokesman for the Republican Party, too, so we get a quick glance behind what the Republican Party really must feel about minorities. If Mississippi, the south, the Senate, the Republican Party, the United States Government don’t agree with these sentiments, they they need to not only refute them but also to rip that veil down. As for Daschle, he said that it was OK, Lott apologized, so what he said wasn’t important (more Playing Dumb on Purpose - like as if to say “Well, I really don’t think Lott or Thurmond even notice race.”). Well, all three of these used-car dealers, Thurman, Lott and Daschle should have moved to the state of anonymity long ago. And once again Mississippi is made a laughing stock of the nation and the rest of the world. I was born and raised in Vicksburg, so I know there are a lot of nice people there and in the rest of the south too, but when the blow flies walk about on top of anything, that’s all anybody sees.
Sunday, December 01, 2002
Thursday, August 08, 2002
Oak Ridge
Brother K. Utsumi came through Franklin again, this time on foot - marching from Atlanta to Oak Ridge, TN. He and his entourage expect to arrive in Oak Ridge in time for the anniversary of the atomic bomb drop in Hiroshima, August 6, 1945.
He spent the night in our house, at Mountain Pathways, in Stamey Mountain Gardens, on July 29, along with Lula, Jome, and Sister Denise. At 6 a.m. we arose for departure preparations and spent almost 30 minutes devoted to Buddhist prayers, meditations and chants. Then a short time for breakfast - grits, naturally - and on to the departure point for that day’s walk. Br. Utsumi and Sr. Denise and their friends, including JoAnn and I walked with them on the short distance out of town. As they marched they drummed in time to their walking: “Dum, dum, dum, dum, dum-de-dum; dum, dum, dum, dum, dum-de-dum”. They continued, drumming up (literally!) new participants in the march.
What is their (our) purpose? To bring about an end to nuclear weapons. Is such a thing possible? Well, the alternative is obliteration.
Sunday, August 6, 2000. A not-so-quick (three hour each way) run over to one of the most desolate and forsaken places I have ever seen. If you want to feel sorry for the planet Earth visit Oak Ridge, Tennessee. We drove through the Y-12 reactor area before the demonstrations began and felt like we had been taken to a world where everything had failed. Roads were blocked all over the place, many with signs saying that it was not safe to travel those roads. Trees were dead and dying in vast numbers. Streams had signs posted reading: “Danger! Stream Contaminated. Do not drink, fish, wade, swim or trespass!” Other signs read “Avoid all contact with the water!” Then in smaller letters: “Condemned by the State of Tennessee”. Later we joined up with Br. Utsumi and Sr. Denise and about 250 other protesters, most of whom appeared to be Oak Ridge residents.
We assembled for lunch and speeches at a public park, then marched about a mile and a half down the highway to the Y-12 Reactor entrance area where we became part of an omelet-stew featuring protesters, counter protesters, police, federal marshals and some 12 news outlets including Fox and ABC. The protesters were generally dressed in a post-modern-hippie array of clothes (partly because of the march in hot weather). Most of the counter protesters were dressed in some form of military costume, or parts thereof. We also had a “preacher” who had come uninvited over to our side, and later we found out he had been dispatched to us by the counter-protesters. He was a young man with an amazingly loud voice. He was perhaps in his mid-twenties, dressed in tan trousers and a long-sleeved white shirt and he carried a bible and some tracts. He began shouting at us, asking if we were Christians. He grabbed Br. Utsuni who was dressed in his Buddhist monk’s robe and asked if he was a Christian, Br. Utsuni put his palms together, near his heart, in the nomastai gesture of respect, bowed and said “Ah sooooo!”
“Well, you’ll burn in Hell forEV-er if you haven’t accepted the Lord JESUS CHRIST as your personal SAVIOR!”
Br. Utsuni walked toward the podium The preacher followed him. “Brother are you SAVED?”
Utsuni talked to someone else about the program. The preacher continued “HEATHENS will burn in HELL!” Then he added “FOREVER and EVER!”
I went over to the counter-protesters to interview and photograph them.
They had a very powerful loudspeaker system that they had aimed at us and it played martial music at full blast. A young man held up a sign protesting the protest in the name of “vets”. I asked him where he had served and he replied that he had never been in the military but that he liked vets. Something new in the world, I guess. A woman grabbed my arm and asked how I could side with the “heathens” - then as a small crowd of counter-protesters surrounded me she asked if I had received the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal savior. I told her that I was descended from native Americans and that Jesus had been the worst thing that had ever happened to us. The result was a mini-nuclear reaction. Bibles were produced (duly photographed), scripture was quoted (also recorded). One woman was dressed in what appeared to be part of an old WAC uniform but with brigadier general stars as her rank. I noticed a submarine patch had been sewed on her uniform. When asked, she said that she had sung a song for “the navy people” on a submarine and the “boys” had “awarded “ her this patch. She sang a partial verse of “Silver Wings on My Son’s Chest”. I asked her what service her son had joined and while I did not understand her answer, I took it to mean perhaps that she did not have any children. I did not ask again but she sang on about “...America’s best...” in what seemed to me to be a voice that alternated between tremolo and vibrato. I told her I had to get back to the other group and she smiled and said “Well, I shore hope you don’t git no aids ... .” I acted surprised and asked if there was any “aids” over there and she nodded her head and said “Yep, you can count on it!” As I headed back to “our” side I was thinking “Silver Wings on Jesus’ Chest ..” That train of thought ended when a policeman stopped me to see if I seemed bent on trouble, then he let me go on. I made his picture too and he looked very somber like he was the only person there who had noticed how hot it was.
There were two speakers on our podium; one probably American, the other appeared Japanese. They spoke briefly and then showed how to do a chant in English and Japanese - “Make Peace not War! War no More!” Then a rather well dressed man took the podium and began speaking about the consequences of America’s continuance of nuclear weapon building. He talked about moral obligations, international treaties, United Nations resolutions, court decisions, and legal ramifications.
Meanwhile, the preacher still wandered about with his bible. “Are you SAVED?” “Brother! Listen!” “Sister, LISTEN to me!” “Are you washed in the BLOOD of the LAMB?” The counter-protesters were playing military songs, about Anchors Aweigh, The Cassions are Rolling Along, and Off we Go ...” All this added a dimension of immortality and imputed grave importance to the speakers' words. Although the music was not exactly overpowering, it was still audible and the speaker seemed to fall into its cadence so that his words seemed to march forward as if an entire nation was behind their inexorable sweep to victory, and to the measured march of “From the halls of Montezuma”, the words stepped forward from the speakers mouth “... the re-spect for gen--RA-tions will de-pend on what we do!””The BLOOD of the LAMB!!”” ... for us to walk the talk ...” “hellFIRE FOR-EV-VER!!” “... moral obligations for humanity ...eternal damnNA-TION!!! ... moral obligations... “Around the Globe ... Depart from ME ye WICK-KED ... international tribunals ... with our banners gleaming ... and suffer in HELL forEV-VER!!
A shuffling of cards could suddenly be heard. Cards? What’s that? A glance showed Halliburton "troops" in dark camouflage marching in military formation to a blue line which had been freshly painted across the road that led to the Y-12 nuclear plant. Now the brigadier has found a microphone and is sending out an amplified, quavering song: “Silver wings on my son’s chest ...” “God’s ONLY Son!!!” “...he’s one of America’s best ...” “Heathens will go to HELL!!!” “ ...and then you will see ...” “BURN in HELL for all ETERNITY!!” A bell sounds to commemorating the explosion over Hiroshima and drums begin a cadence which will last for more than two hours. “Dum, dum, dum, dum, dum-de-dum; dum, dum, dum, dum, dum-de-dum” It was the cadence of the march from Atlanta to Oak Ridge. “In a lake of FIIRRE!!” Now the two Buddhists begin chanting and marching toward the new blue line.
The crowd surges behind them. The Japanese man is at the microphone again shouting in Japanese but his words are overridden by the preacher who is in our midst: “The Lord sayeth in I-SAY-yah...” From the counter-protesters faintly comes the tune “Over there, over there, send the word ...” , and they are now waving United States flags. “Suffer for-EV-VER!!!”
The first two protesters walk across the blue line and stop. There is a cheer from the protesters, then breathless quiet. Faintly can be heard the tune from the counter-protesters Mine eyes have seen the glory ... A federal marshal, a tall man with an enormous belly, comes up to the protesters who have crossed the line and reads a statement to them from a card he holds in his hands. There are about six marshals surrounding the two protesters and probably twelve journalists with cameras, recorders and camcorders surrounding that entire group. The two protesters are both small elderly ladies wearing straw hats, and are perhaps both in their 80’s. “Now if you don’t leave, Ma’am, I will have to place you under arrest ...I will have no choice ...” he stops and bends his head over so he can hear what she is saying. ‘ ..he is tramping in the vineyard ...” . A swarm of camera lenses open and close constantly, flashbulbs flickering. For a moment he looks like he might be talking to his grandmother; she stares straight up, her fingers lightly touching his arm, smiling, as if looking at her favorite son. He straightens up. “Ma’am, I must inform you that you are under arrest; anything you say may be held against you ...” The lenses open and close constantly as if in amazement, not believing what they are recording. The marshal looks like his lunch maybe didn’t agree with him. Several marshals help the ladies over to the shade. A roar arises from the protesters, and a clapping of hands. “Make Peace not War! War no More!” “God have MERCY on your SOULS!!!...” then spontaneously all other noise is washed away by a new song which begins from one female African-American voice and instantly swells and seemingly lifts to fill the entire world! “We shall overcome ...” .
So, two more waves of protesters were arrested, about at 30 minute intervals, probably about 20 or so in all, and the once yearly celebration segued into the one which is held every Sunday there. That’s when we walked the mile and a half back to our car. On the way, at about 5:30 p.m., we noticed a bank temperature sign reading 96°.
© John Womack, All Rights Reserved
He spent the night in our house, at Mountain Pathways, in Stamey Mountain Gardens, on July 29, along with Lula, Jome, and Sister Denise. At 6 a.m. we arose for departure preparations and spent almost 30 minutes devoted to Buddhist prayers, meditations and chants. Then a short time for breakfast - grits, naturally - and on to the departure point for that day’s walk. Br. Utsumi and Sr. Denise and their friends, including JoAnn and I walked with them on the short distance out of town. As they marched they drummed in time to their walking: “Dum, dum, dum, dum, dum-de-dum; dum, dum, dum, dum, dum-de-dum”. They continued, drumming up (literally!) new participants in the march.
What is their (our) purpose? To bring about an end to nuclear weapons. Is such a thing possible? Well, the alternative is obliteration.
Sunday, August 6, 2000. A not-so-quick (three hour each way) run over to one of the most desolate and forsaken places I have ever seen. If you want to feel sorry for the planet Earth visit Oak Ridge, Tennessee. We drove through the Y-12 reactor area before the demonstrations began and felt like we had been taken to a world where everything had failed. Roads were blocked all over the place, many with signs saying that it was not safe to travel those roads. Trees were dead and dying in vast numbers. Streams had signs posted reading: “Danger! Stream Contaminated. Do not drink, fish, wade, swim or trespass!” Other signs read “Avoid all contact with the water!” Then in smaller letters: “Condemned by the State of Tennessee”. Later we joined up with Br. Utsumi and Sr. Denise and about 250 other protesters, most of whom appeared to be Oak Ridge residents.
We assembled for lunch and speeches at a public park, then marched about a mile and a half down the highway to the Y-12 Reactor entrance area where we became part of an omelet-stew featuring protesters, counter protesters, police, federal marshals and some 12 news outlets including Fox and ABC. The protesters were generally dressed in a post-modern-hippie array of clothes (partly because of the march in hot weather). Most of the counter protesters were dressed in some form of military costume, or parts thereof. We also had a “preacher” who had come uninvited over to our side, and later we found out he had been dispatched to us by the counter-protesters. He was a young man with an amazingly loud voice. He was perhaps in his mid-twenties, dressed in tan trousers and a long-sleeved white shirt and he carried a bible and some tracts. He began shouting at us, asking if we were Christians. He grabbed Br. Utsuni who was dressed in his Buddhist monk’s robe and asked if he was a Christian, Br. Utsuni put his palms together, near his heart, in the nomastai gesture of respect, bowed and said “Ah sooooo!”
“Well, you’ll burn in Hell forEV-er if you haven’t accepted the Lord JESUS CHRIST as your personal SAVIOR!”
Br. Utsuni walked toward the podium The preacher followed him. “Brother are you SAVED?”
Utsuni talked to someone else about the program. The preacher continued “HEATHENS will burn in HELL!” Then he added “FOREVER and EVER!”
I went over to the counter-protesters to interview and photograph them.
They had a very powerful loudspeaker system that they had aimed at us and it played martial music at full blast. A young man held up a sign protesting the protest in the name of “vets”. I asked him where he had served and he replied that he had never been in the military but that he liked vets. Something new in the world, I guess. A woman grabbed my arm and asked how I could side with the “heathens” - then as a small crowd of counter-protesters surrounded me she asked if I had received the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal savior. I told her that I was descended from native Americans and that Jesus had been the worst thing that had ever happened to us. The result was a mini-nuclear reaction. Bibles were produced (duly photographed), scripture was quoted (also recorded). One woman was dressed in what appeared to be part of an old WAC uniform but with brigadier general stars as her rank. I noticed a submarine patch had been sewed on her uniform. When asked, she said that she had sung a song for “the navy people” on a submarine and the “boys” had “awarded “ her this patch. She sang a partial verse of “Silver Wings on My Son’s Chest”. I asked her what service her son had joined and while I did not understand her answer, I took it to mean perhaps that she did not have any children. I did not ask again but she sang on about “...America’s best...” in what seemed to me to be a voice that alternated between tremolo and vibrato. I told her I had to get back to the other group and she smiled and said “Well, I shore hope you don’t git no aids ... .” I acted surprised and asked if there was any “aids” over there and she nodded her head and said “Yep, you can count on it!” As I headed back to “our” side I was thinking “Silver Wings on Jesus’ Chest ..” That train of thought ended when a policeman stopped me to see if I seemed bent on trouble, then he let me go on. I made his picture too and he looked very somber like he was the only person there who had noticed how hot it was.
There were two speakers on our podium; one probably American, the other appeared Japanese. They spoke briefly and then showed how to do a chant in English and Japanese - “Make Peace not War! War no More!” Then a rather well dressed man took the podium and began speaking about the consequences of America’s continuance of nuclear weapon building. He talked about moral obligations, international treaties, United Nations resolutions, court decisions, and legal ramifications.
Meanwhile, the preacher still wandered about with his bible. “Are you SAVED?” “Brother! Listen!” “Sister, LISTEN to me!” “Are you washed in the BLOOD of the LAMB?” The counter-protesters were playing military songs, about Anchors Aweigh, The Cassions are Rolling Along, and Off we Go ...” All this added a dimension of immortality and imputed grave importance to the speakers' words. Although the music was not exactly overpowering, it was still audible and the speaker seemed to fall into its cadence so that his words seemed to march forward as if an entire nation was behind their inexorable sweep to victory, and to the measured march of “From the halls of Montezuma”, the words stepped forward from the speakers mouth “... the re-spect for gen--RA-tions will de-pend on what we do!””The BLOOD of the LAMB!!”” ... for us to walk the talk ...” “hellFIRE FOR-EV-VER!!” “... moral obligations for humanity ...eternal damnNA-TION!!! ... moral obligations... “Around the Globe ... Depart from ME ye WICK-KED ... international tribunals ... with our banners gleaming ... and suffer in HELL forEV-VER!!
A shuffling of cards could suddenly be heard. Cards? What’s that? A glance showed Halliburton "troops" in dark camouflage marching in military formation to a blue line which had been freshly painted across the road that led to the Y-12 nuclear plant. Now the brigadier has found a microphone and is sending out an amplified, quavering song: “Silver wings on my son’s chest ...” “God’s ONLY Son!!!” “...he’s one of America’s best ...” “Heathens will go to HELL!!!” “ ...and then you will see ...” “BURN in HELL for all ETERNITY!!” A bell sounds to commemorating the explosion over Hiroshima and drums begin a cadence which will last for more than two hours. “Dum, dum, dum, dum, dum-de-dum; dum, dum, dum, dum, dum-de-dum” It was the cadence of the march from Atlanta to Oak Ridge. “In a lake of FIIRRE!!” Now the two Buddhists begin chanting and marching toward the new blue line.
The crowd surges behind them. The Japanese man is at the microphone again shouting in Japanese but his words are overridden by the preacher who is in our midst: “The Lord sayeth in I-SAY-yah...” From the counter-protesters faintly comes the tune “Over there, over there, send the word ...” , and they are now waving United States flags. “Suffer for-EV-VER!!!”
The first two protesters walk across the blue line and stop. There is a cheer from the protesters, then breathless quiet. Faintly can be heard the tune from the counter-protesters Mine eyes have seen the glory ... A federal marshal, a tall man with an enormous belly, comes up to the protesters who have crossed the line and reads a statement to them from a card he holds in his hands. There are about six marshals surrounding the two protesters and probably twelve journalists with cameras, recorders and camcorders surrounding that entire group. The two protesters are both small elderly ladies wearing straw hats, and are perhaps both in their 80’s. “Now if you don’t leave, Ma’am, I will have to place you under arrest ...I will have no choice ...” he stops and bends his head over so he can hear what she is saying. ‘ ..he is tramping in the vineyard ...” . A swarm of camera lenses open and close constantly, flashbulbs flickering. For a moment he looks like he might be talking to his grandmother; she stares straight up, her fingers lightly touching his arm, smiling, as if looking at her favorite son. He straightens up. “Ma’am, I must inform you that you are under arrest; anything you say may be held against you ...” The lenses open and close constantly as if in amazement, not believing what they are recording. The marshal looks like his lunch maybe didn’t agree with him. Several marshals help the ladies over to the shade. A roar arises from the protesters, and a clapping of hands. “Make Peace not War! War no More!” “God have MERCY on your SOULS!!!...” then spontaneously all other noise is washed away by a new song which begins from one female African-American voice and instantly swells and seemingly lifts to fill the entire world! “We shall overcome ...” .
So, two more waves of protesters were arrested, about at 30 minute intervals, probably about 20 or so in all, and the once yearly celebration segued into the one which is held every Sunday there. That’s when we walked the mile and a half back to our car. On the way, at about 5:30 p.m., we noticed a bank temperature sign reading 96°.© John Womack, All Rights Reserved
Monday, May 06, 2002
Pedophilia - and Worse!
May, 2002.
From time to time we non-Catholics have heard sexual inuendo whispered about, but always by those who were also whispering same things about the Protestants and the Democrats and all those other folks. We always assumed the very fact that such rumors were about were proof that they existed only as feckless charges in evil, and perhaps envious minds.
However now that the facts seem to reveal that at least 250 priests and 4 bishops actually were guilty enough of this seduction of members of their own flocks to be caught, we must wonder how deep the carnage actually went.
The immediate problem of pedophilia goes to the pedophile and the one attacked. That is a serious crime and problem that lasts a lifetime. Far more serious though is an act of coverup, and permission for the perpertrator to continue in another venu. Such action reveals a certanl level of gamesmanship between the prelates and the flock. It also reveals the presence of a casual contemptousness of those whose flocks are so facile that they should actually believe what their leaders say to them.
The Bishops who were aware of the allegations and did not report it to civil authorities were guilty of a far greater betrayal of their faith and their following than the pedophile. The fact that the Bishops would reassign a pedophilic priest even one time, much less again and again, is serious enough to require civil action.
This problem is not the church’s problem anyway, it belongs in the domain of the state. Not to treat it thusly is to repeat the same mistake the Navy women made when they tried to handle the groping and rapes they encountered at “Tailgate” through the Navy. That simply made a serious problem a matter of smirking contempt from the Navy. The Clark County (Nevada) Sheriff’s office would have treated this matter very differently. The Catholic church has treated these abused children with the same smirking contempt. They would have had to react diffferently if local authorities had prosecuted the issue and if priests and bishops had to testify under oath.
From time to time we non-Catholics have heard sexual inuendo whispered about, but always by those who were also whispering same things about the Protestants and the Democrats and all those other folks. We always assumed the very fact that such rumors were about were proof that they existed only as feckless charges in evil, and perhaps envious minds.
However now that the facts seem to reveal that at least 250 priests and 4 bishops actually were guilty enough of this seduction of members of their own flocks to be caught, we must wonder how deep the carnage actually went.
The immediate problem of pedophilia goes to the pedophile and the one attacked. That is a serious crime and problem that lasts a lifetime. Far more serious though is an act of coverup, and permission for the perpertrator to continue in another venu. Such action reveals a certanl level of gamesmanship between the prelates and the flock. It also reveals the presence of a casual contemptousness of those whose flocks are so facile that they should actually believe what their leaders say to them.
The Bishops who were aware of the allegations and did not report it to civil authorities were guilty of a far greater betrayal of their faith and their following than the pedophile. The fact that the Bishops would reassign a pedophilic priest even one time, much less again and again, is serious enough to require civil action.
This problem is not the church’s problem anyway, it belongs in the domain of the state. Not to treat it thusly is to repeat the same mistake the Navy women made when they tried to handle the groping and rapes they encountered at “Tailgate” through the Navy. That simply made a serious problem a matter of smirking contempt from the Navy. The Clark County (Nevada) Sheriff’s office would have treated this matter very differently. The Catholic church has treated these abused children with the same smirking contempt. They would have had to react diffferently if local authorities had prosecuted the issue and if priests and bishops had to testify under oath.
Bombers
May, 2002
The world is repulsed by the sucide bombers that are being used against the people of Israel. Somehow it seems not-human to kill yourself intentionally, even for God or Country. Every nation that fights wars loses men, but they are trying not to be killed. That is a significant difference, we say.
Another extreme is the American Bombers. They come in at high altitudes where they cannot be seen, perhaps even heard, against a people who have no radar or guns that will reach that high. The population is often unaware that there are any Americans or airplanes anywhere at all. These bombs also explode suddenly and unexpectedly, yet the American Bomber is in little mortal danger.
Of course, the main objection to the Palestinian Bombers is that they seem to target, not military targets, but children and recreational areas. But so do the American Bombers, not intentionally perhaps, but unknowingly. The number of Afganistan civilian casualties will never be known, and American political leaders deny every number and every mistake they make,(except for the hospitals which like destroyed, and of course the American Red Cross headquarters in Afghanistan (which was bombed twice!)) yet the amount of innocent civilians killed by the American Bombers will clearly be far greater than all the innocent casualties wrought by the Palestinian Bombers.
The world is repulsed by the sucide bombers that are being used against the people of Israel. Somehow it seems not-human to kill yourself intentionally, even for God or Country. Every nation that fights wars loses men, but they are trying not to be killed. That is a significant difference, we say.
Another extreme is the American Bombers. They come in at high altitudes where they cannot be seen, perhaps even heard, against a people who have no radar or guns that will reach that high. The population is often unaware that there are any Americans or airplanes anywhere at all. These bombs also explode suddenly and unexpectedly, yet the American Bomber is in little mortal danger.
Of course, the main objection to the Palestinian Bombers is that they seem to target, not military targets, but children and recreational areas. But so do the American Bombers, not intentionally perhaps, but unknowingly. The number of Afganistan civilian casualties will never be known, and American political leaders deny every number and every mistake they make,(except for the hospitals which like destroyed, and of course the American Red Cross headquarters in Afghanistan (which was bombed twice!)) yet the amount of innocent civilians killed by the American Bombers will clearly be far greater than all the innocent casualties wrought by the Palestinian Bombers.
Memorial Day
May, 2002
This generally hallowed day generates within me feelings of sarcasm more than anything else. Perhaps that is due to memories of my own welcome back from two of my three tours in Vietnam. I know that a lot of these men who are honored today, the majority of which were probably now yet into the estate of manhood, had no choice in where they were and what they were doing when their life suddnly ended violently. It is often stated, on Memorial Day, that we Americans, and many others in the world, owe a great debt to these men, and that is not to be denied. The fact that his holiday keeps their memory alive is only to be contrasted with the reality of the observances which is cocerned only with the spending of money. Those who were killed ultimately had no choice, but we know now that their leaders had many choices that they did not use or were not aware of. We know that Pearl Harbor was tipped off in more than one way, only no one could “connect-those-dots” either. Korea was one of those “slippery slopes” we hear about from timt to time. We slid all the way back down the North Korean part of the place. Why did we go in? Why did we go north of the 32nd parallel? What else could have been done. Why Vietnam? Well, that answer is easy. It concerns the Falling Domino Theory. If Vietnam should fall to Ho-Chi-Mihn, then within a year all of Burma, Cambodia, Laos, Indonesia, Taiway and possibly Japan and Hawaii would fall to communism. Secretary of Defence McNamara has written in 1995, that he and President Johnson knew the war was lost in 1966, and that we fought all the rest of it, the big part of it, those last six years, killing those 50,000 Americans and 2 million Vietnamese to try to “save the presidency,” to save Johnson and Nixon from disgrace. The Gulf War brought home men with “strange illnesses.” They are still dying, and they are told by the United States government that it has nothing to do with their fighting for the United States in the Persian Gulf. They gave for Halliburton, Exxon, and other great giants of American commerce. What other choices were available -before- the Kuwait invasion, or after, for that matter? We know that when the attack on the Twin Towers was being finalized, the American president was spending a month in Texas, to escape the “humdrum” of life in the Capitol. His administration was doubtless at work, but there was no center to events. What else could have been done?
Israel and the Arabs are at low-grade war, Pakistan and India are ready for Glory. And it goes on and on. Maybe we can make some small changes; here’s one: Let’s not ever honor another fallen soldier or lost sailor without convening a war crimes convention to address the fault of those who led their young men into war. Let us make Memorial Day really memorial by declairing that war is a crime against mankind, the universe and God.
It is a travesty that we “honor” young men who were killed by their own countries for the personal enrichment of their leaders. These leaders grow old and get rich; the young men get glory.
This generally hallowed day generates within me feelings of sarcasm more than anything else. Perhaps that is due to memories of my own welcome back from two of my three tours in Vietnam. I know that a lot of these men who are honored today, the majority of which were probably now yet into the estate of manhood, had no choice in where they were and what they were doing when their life suddnly ended violently. It is often stated, on Memorial Day, that we Americans, and many others in the world, owe a great debt to these men, and that is not to be denied. The fact that his holiday keeps their memory alive is only to be contrasted with the reality of the observances which is cocerned only with the spending of money. Those who were killed ultimately had no choice, but we know now that their leaders had many choices that they did not use or were not aware of. We know that Pearl Harbor was tipped off in more than one way, only no one could “connect-those-dots” either. Korea was one of those “slippery slopes” we hear about from timt to time. We slid all the way back down the North Korean part of the place. Why did we go in? Why did we go north of the 32nd parallel? What else could have been done. Why Vietnam? Well, that answer is easy. It concerns the Falling Domino Theory. If Vietnam should fall to Ho-Chi-Mihn, then within a year all of Burma, Cambodia, Laos, Indonesia, Taiway and possibly Japan and Hawaii would fall to communism. Secretary of Defence McNamara has written in 1995, that he and President Johnson knew the war was lost in 1966, and that we fought all the rest of it, the big part of it, those last six years, killing those 50,000 Americans and 2 million Vietnamese to try to “save the presidency,” to save Johnson and Nixon from disgrace. The Gulf War brought home men with “strange illnesses.” They are still dying, and they are told by the United States government that it has nothing to do with their fighting for the United States in the Persian Gulf. They gave for Halliburton, Exxon, and other great giants of American commerce. What other choices were available -before- the Kuwait invasion, or after, for that matter? We know that when the attack on the Twin Towers was being finalized, the American president was spending a month in Texas, to escape the “humdrum” of life in the Capitol. His administration was doubtless at work, but there was no center to events. What else could have been done?
Israel and the Arabs are at low-grade war, Pakistan and India are ready for Glory. And it goes on and on. Maybe we can make some small changes; here’s one: Let’s not ever honor another fallen soldier or lost sailor without convening a war crimes convention to address the fault of those who led their young men into war. Let us make Memorial Day really memorial by declairing that war is a crime against mankind, the universe and God.
It is a travesty that we “honor” young men who were killed by their own countries for the personal enrichment of their leaders. These leaders grow old and get rich; the young men get glory.
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