Warlords, military industrialists, neoliberals, neocons, political killers beware
They are young, high school, seniors, boys and girls, running hard, 8 am, along Salmon Creek, a place where I burn the body in a course of hard bicycling waiting for a bald eagle to baptize my day. Great blue herons, red-tailed hawks, egrets, meadowlarks, red winged black birds, and dozens of other species capturing the soul before facing off the empire.
Oh, maybe 50, hot and pink faced, running toward the big park and the pond. Running into hell, into the cornering that the empire paints into almost everyone’s life. What in hell is the US Marines offering these middle class kids? The big tent with logo and stoking barbecue and little kids lawn games?
Normalizing this bullshit wannabe drone-Stryker-joy stick-robo-soldier wet dream. We have given them choices, in this tantalizing, make believe, TV-Movie-Digital Screen drenched world: They want a career? They want adventure? They want security? They want to scrub a thinking and social services world for high caliber air support missile launched world?
Half-time show flyover. That big gaping wound that is US Empire, a global economic assault on all lands and kingdoms by grunts and leathernecks and jar heads which are these new generation killers.
I couldn’t help but notice something hard and vulnerable in their eyes. Something chilling and shut off. Something ready to engage vis-a-vis hard-assed Gunny Sarge and mean-assed culture of…