small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: <strong>fuck"THEM"</strong>

Thursday, September 9

fuck"THEM"

There’s this cat that works in the same building I do. He fought in the Gulf War and he scares me, his whole rhetoric is all about the “Army” way and how THEY did things. He sits there and stares out at the world with his beady little eyes and tells anyone who’ll listen how we need to draw a line in the sand and nuke everything on the other side into a field of glass. If there’s a role model for the “Ugly American” it’s him.
Yeah baby, lets kill em all and let God sort em out. That’s how this man’s Army would do it.
I’m ashamed that he works for the government. He sees this as a war against everyone on the other side; he just doesn’t know or care who the other side is. Lump em all together and start shooting, that’s the kind of justice he wants. He couldn’t spell Afghanistan if you promised him a free six-pack of beer, but as far as he’s concerned, nuking that country would solve all our problems. I don’t know, I don’t see this as a war against one people or one nation. I see it as a war against Them. Them that slink in the dark and attack from the shadows. Them that denigrate their gods name for their own purposes. Them that murder the innocents. I don’t want to bring a people to their knees; I want to bring Them to justice. I want to bring Them to their knees. I’ve never been able to cry, but after work last night I was sittin in the Cane. To my left were friends talking about the day’s events. On stage the band was going thru their sound check. And on the TV were scenes of death and destruction. As I watched television and listened to my friends’ talk and the band beatin away, I felt swallowed up by despair and blackness and I could feel the tears welling up. I turned away from everyone and started watchin the bums on Monkey Island arguing and passing the bottle. My tears were replaced by a vengeful anger. I wanted to run over and start screaming and kicking! “ Don’t you muthafuckers know what the fuck is going on?!” I wanted to take out all my anger and grief out on everyone in that small circle. How dare they let the world pass em by, they need to act like they care! As I watched the bottle being passed around and I could see backpacks holding all that they own, it dawned on me. I wanted to be with em. I wanted not to care; I wanted to drink myself into a senseless state of unconsciousness. I wanted to stop thinking about New York and the Pentagon and the prior day’s events. I didn’t want to consider the upcoming conflict and all the death and devastation that come with it. I just wanted to forget. I just want it not to happen. Peace

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

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