I’ve waited ’til today to post this, out of respect for those families who lost innocent loved ones on September 11th, 2001. Negligence on the part of Fed-Gov agencies (from the foot-soldiers/agents up to and including their bureaucratic handlers & Admins) stripped those families of countless lifetimes of memories; stripped the living children of their parents; stripped the unborn (and now, never-to-be born) of the same relationships.
We will never know the horrors experienced by the innocents that day, in those planes and in those buildings. That alone should haunt the above noted incompetent (or thoroughly evil and corrupt) Bureaucrats. But barring a sudden attack of conscience on the part of a few whose “pay grade” was sufficient to actually have been in-the-know, we will likely never know – in our lifetimes at least – all that truly occurred that day. And considering how often such politicians and political-operatives feel such compunction, it is safe to say our posterity may be forever in the dark. It is easier for The Powerful that way. [Just saw this in my Facebook feed.]
That way we outside-the-loopers are left bantering back and forth until we are burnt out…or until we forget, because Life (or the next Dot-Gov inspired tragedy) overshadows it. When we do recall and discuss-amongst-ourselves, we’re the so called nutjobs…all for desperately trying to put disparate facts together in a “sensical” fashion. We become the Mouthpiece-media’s temporary darlings, their Conspiracy Theorists, if we dare question the narrative they are called upon (or willingly choose?) to feed us.
But I know Reichstag fires happen “over there” and Pearl Harbors happen closer to home….so don’t even try the Nut job on me.
I didn’t “start the joke” and only a very small portion of “the world was laughing” but now I feel sick about having even smiled at some of it. It’s clear that the only folks who CAN laugh at war-jokes are those of us lucky enough or dare I say, conniving enough, to have STAYED OUT of the ones going on all around us. You know, those wars which our kids, our contemporaries or their kids, or our parents have been (or were, or are being) suckered into or worse yet…dragged off into.
I’d apologize to my father – if it were possible – for having thought a WWI joke was amusing, because he was dragged off to WWII and then, after only a few short years, conscripted again in the U.N. skirmish in Korea.
Wrote this short 2500-word story Christmas day; put it on Smashwords for FREE last night.
It’s Christmas Eve and college student Jamison Riley has chosen to spend the holiday alone, in Sigma Mu Pi’s just-off-campus frat house. Of course the fact he’s arranged a blind date for tonight had something to do with turning down several relatives’ offers. The date is after all, the first such opportunity – of any “acuity” – he’s had all semester…
Okay, I admit it: I like little paintings because they make me feel like a god. All the time, not just at the end after everything has been figured out and worked out and has ultimately become a veritable color & shape tune that hums and makes me feel better just by listening glancing at it.
So this is a foray taken yesterday afternoon (and “touched up” this morning) into Bigger-is-Scarier-but-clearly-not-impossible. (I used to work on “quarter-sheets” so it’s not like I’m a total wimp.) Here’s the photo-inspiration.
Up”date”: Um-m-m…earth-to-Patrice. The signature line’s date on this should have been “july” not june.