photo by doreen peri
Dead Soldiers
for release 05-30-05
Washington D.C.
It's Memorial Day. I feel it is my duty to honor our dead soldiers. To that end I have created a small memorial on my desk and there are seven dead soldiers in a neat row, all saying Budweiser. The budget didn't provide for Michelob, which I prefer and perhaps would have been more fitting for this ceremony, because Michelob is just Budweiser that's been aged a little longer and as everyone knows it is good to be older bud wiser.
My head is pounding out a swirving version of taps, and before the rocket's red glare and before I get sentimental about all the poor young fools who have died so that oligarchy can reign in our great and wealthy land, I must pause.
Days like this cause my patriotism to emerge from the closet. The thought that brave men have sacrificed their lives to preserve our liberties and protect our shores is all very warm and cuddly. When I have seven empty beer bottles on my desk I can get in the mood to place wreaths on the tomb of the Unknowns.
That's until I remember that they are all unknowns after they make what George Bush cavalierly calls 'the ultimate sacrifice.' They have served their purpose, they are empty bottles all in a row because no matter what they and we are told, these young men and women aren't protecting our shores or freedoms, they are protecting the financial interests of the racketeers that are running our country.
As I watch the line of dead soldiers grow, I feel more and more inclined to weep. Perhaps I'm just a sloppy drunk. Or perhaps there is really something to cry about. It's sad that the last fifteen hundred Americans in the row of dead soldiers are cold and dead, but it is tragic that they died in the cause of lies and greed.
