How great thou art

I have been here in the U.S. for ten years. I have ended up talking to myself. Today, I am talking at a beginnning to other Indians. Others too, who let themselves be talked to.

Watch a huge country, with no provocation, juggernaut into a little country and reduce it to rubble. Check. Then there are the newspapers. They are full of sorrow for the fallen soldiers, for their "sacrifice for their country." I didn't know the country was called the United States of Halliburton-Bechtel, that's all. But they keep feverishly counting the number of American dead. Few if any of the Iraqis stories make it to the front pages, theirdead, their rage, their sense of insult, the uttter outrageousness and audacity of these foreigners entering their homes and telling them what to do. In America, we don't hear about them. The newspapers and the electronic media are close and sweaty, masturbating their secret to each other. We can always correct the mistakes by changing our strategy. We cannot, however, say that staying the hell out of another's countries affairs might be any kind of strategy. That would be - let's see- wimpy, un-American. Just plain pussy. And we don't like pussies, we prefer to stay hard and commanding. No?
Ehren Watada is an American soldier. To Indians, he is probably completely unknown. It is meant to be that way. His small photo appears on the third or fourth page, when it does. He has refused to serve in Iraq, claiming that the war is illegal. Here, though, he is a traitor. The editorials sagely condemn his "misjudgement." But of course. In contemporary North America, to have judgement is shameful. You are supposed to let the media think for you. Who is Ehren Watada to think, the upstart? He is going to be sentenced to prison. And that will teach him to question the wisdom if this great country. For we Americans think this is the greatest country that ever was.

I am reminded of its greatness when I fill my car with gas. I get to drive my own car and fill it with gas and drive around in it and I don't need to share it. Iraqis have no cars and no gas to fill them with. Neither do lots of countries that we have invaded, some more than once, but their ignorant natives - as one letter-to-the-editor bemoans, problem-solving through consensus is simply not in Iraqi culture. But I am an American resident, and I need my due meed of gas, so that I may travel in comfort. It is the duty of those Iraqis and those - er, Ay-rabs, to pay this black homage to my country. They need to fund our Hummers, those huge dickish cars that barrel along roads here. The American lifestyle must be protected. It is too cute to lose.

I am going to protect my American lifestyle by shopping on the internet. Buy a few flags, and send them over to Tikrit to teach those Hajjis a little patriotism. Goodnight, and good luck.