Misdirection of Outrage (Or, How I Lost My Freakin' Mind and Now Let Monsters Do My Thinkin')

You know, a buncha crazy shit happenin' in a hostile country is probably not the simplest thing to interpret, particularly early on.  And I would think any reasonable person would appreciate that for what it is.  

The events that took the lives of four Americans in Benghazi were trajic.  Sadly, instead of bein' allowed to mourn their deaths and stay focused on discoverin' who the murderers were and how we might bring them to Justice, it was turned into just the next in what seems to be an Unendin' Parade of Political Attacks on the President.  Ridiculously Obvious and Transparent.  Even with continuous Leaks, Lies, and Distortions, Shit slung rapid-fire in the hopes that somethin' sticks, the main accomplishment of this Freak Show has been the Extreme Waste of Time, Money, and Resources for something that has absolutely nothin' to do with Justice.  

Whoever was responsible for these deaths, you can bet they're laughin' their Collective Murderous Asses off as they watch what our elected officials are doin' to one another.  

They see us as a Joke.  A perception that, at this point, only an idiot would attempt to refute.

Who is keepin' so many of y'all so pumped up over this?  Are you as angry as They apparently are that the evidence so desperately searched for in the hopes of destroyin' our current President has simply failed to materialize, and that even a Deluge of Lies hasn't brought the desired results?

(If you hurt and discredit the President, the means used are inconsequential, right?  Any damage to our Country is simply a matter of course.  All that matters is accomplishin' the Objective, right?  Right?)

And, with those questions posed, let me ask ya a few more:

So, then how is it that so many of you passionate people don't appear to be even remotely pissed about thousands of American Soldiers dead, and tens of thousands of citizens dead in a country that we invaded for reasons that turned out to be not just Wrong, but Intentional, Intricate, Calculated Lies?  Oh, but wait, wait...!  These were not just Lies of the Garden-Variety.  These were Big, Dark, Dirty Lies, hatched and executed to reward their small group of Authors and Architects with a Windfall of Billions upon Billions of  Dollars, drenched in Blood and caked thick with the Screams of Mothers and Children.  

(That last bit?  Doesn't matter to the Ones doin' the "Reapin'".  Still spends.  Right, Dick?  Yeah, Buddy.  Good Stuff.)  

And, it was always The Plan- a Plan that had been in the works for many, many years.  

That doesn't piss off anybody but me?   Seriously? 

Okay.  Let's say, for the sake of this argument, that mistakes were made in Benghazi.  Let's say that people held onto the Truth for a while before they shared it, for reasons good or bad, which has yet to proven, and wouldn't matter now, anyway.  You know what didn't happen?  Let's see...  Oh!  Here's one thing:  Nobody cashed in on it, by which I mean nobody got stupid rich from it, or, hopefully, ever will. 

(Addendum:  One Lyin' Bastard spewed crap on a popular Sunday network "news" show, a network that turned out to be owned by the same corporation that would release this same Lyin' Bastard's Book of Bullshit, just two days after featurin' this Piece of Shit as their exclusive "Eyewitness".  That buncha Modern Day Alchemists almost succeeded in turnin' Deciet into Gold, but their Lies were exposed.  An apology?  No, not a real one.  The only thing they truly regretted was gettin' found out.)  

Nobody created a decade long nightmare scenario that destroyed families- some because their loved ones were killed, some because they were fortunate to only have their limbs blown off and heads split open, but still survived to live out the wondrous new lives they've been handed, with a government that will barely acknowledge them and their sacrifice.  

Have you all just been savin' up all your Outrage and Disgust, just waitin' for someone to tell you where you should direct it?  Were you stowin' it all in a box under the bed, only now allowin' someone to dictate where you spend your vitriol for some secret, private reason?  What is it, really?

Is it because this guy ain't white?  

"No!", you cry, indignantly...

What is it, then?  

I am the last one to discount the death of anyone, American or otherwise.  (Personally, I'm more of a mind to begin at Human when it comes to my sadness and disdain over Needless Death.)  But, for the freakin' life of me, I just cannot get my head around why so many people allow themselves to be ratcheted up by a buncha Talkin' Heads over the terrible deaths of four people, while simultaneously refusin' to acknowledge a Horrific Event of such Scope and Magnitude, that a relative four deaths is scarcely distinguishable against the backdrop of the War Profiteering that has gone on for more than ten years.  Where in the Livin' Hell y'all been?!  I would think the overused and misused "Support Our Troops" would at least include not supportin' a Manufactured Scheme to swap Blood for Money!  

Look here:  If you support the Cheney-orchestrated War in Iraq, then I clearly support our Troops more than you.  I support their right to not be used as Cannon Fodder- to not be treated as an Expendable Resource in a Corporate Scheme to Dupe and Fleece our Public.  I support the Right of Our Troops to only be put in Harm's Way when there is no other recourse.  When it is the Absolute Last Resort.  I support their Right to Live.

I apologize for the rant.  Sort of.  I find myself frustrated by this type of Skewed, Selective Logic.  I am confounded by the Intellectual Lethargy practiced by so many of my Fellow Citizens.  I would hope that my attempt to point out what's really takin' place might stir some to step back and try and see the Big Picture.  Maybe slow down- spend some time thinkin' for themselves, perhaps re-evaluate their own chosen position, to challenge the Pre-packaged Reality of which they've been served such a steady helpin' for so long. 

But, sadly, I expect that many of you will return to your televisions and choose with your remote control just who you will have show you who to blame, who to hate, all the while designating the latest targets for your outrage, so that you don't have to go to all the trouble of thinkin' too hard or lettin' it get too complicated.

I just don't get it...

~Fish

Li'l Ed and Me

Ya can't tell it here, but Ed and Me are in the middle of a few thousand people at the Blues Festival, Water Tower, several years ago.  Ed was burnin' up a killer lead and left the stage, wireless, and walked through the crowd.  I was probably about seventy-five, maybe a hundred feet from the stage, and I had one a those cardboard cameras in my pocket.  So, I pulled it out and flipped on the flash, thinkin' I might get a good image if Ed got close enough.  He ended up right in front of me, still wailin'.  Then, with a beer in my right hand and that cheap camera in my left, I figured I'd just do this.  Didn't spill a drop a beer on Ed's guitar and he never missed a lick!  

Fun Times....

In a lotta ways, I have lived a charmed life.

~Fish~

Lost In America...

I am an American, through and through.  I can even trace My Bloodline beyond the European Invasion, to the Indigenous Man.  Way ahead of Most.  And No One can take that from Me.  It belongs to Me.  

But, of late, I find myself offended, even bewildered, by the Behavior of A Great Number of My Countrymen.

I have been Driven Away from the Church, by the Church.

I have come to Despise Politics, due to Politicians Devoid of Integrity.

I no longer have any Allegiance to My Employers, for They no longer have any for Me.

I have lost all Trust in Our Media, since They've become nothin' more than a Revenue Stream for a Handful of  Corporations.

I have no Faith in Our Government, since Our Government has come to represent only the Vulgar Rich at the Expense of the Hard-Workin' and the Unfortunate.

I no longer Blindly Respect Our Flag, as Our Flag no longer Represents the Ideals of My Country.

Okay.  I'm done.  Commence with the Heapin' of the Shit.  Been on My Own for a while.  I can friggin' take it...

~Fish~

JUST ONE MORE MAN

As I walked down the street, and you came into view

Couldn't see your face, but I knew it was you

You leaned against his car, under parking lot light

While I stood there transparent, in the grip of the night

You both spoke so softly, I could barely hear

But I could tell by your bodies, it was perfectly clear

As you stood there and kissed him, so easy to see

You now loved another, and no longer loved me

With our hearts in boxes, on rows of shelves

Sometimes we don't even know ourselves

I closed my eyes tight as my head spun 'round

I heard my heart breaking, a low, lonesome sound

You'd say you were sorry, that you'd never hurt me

But your feelings had changed, we were not meant to be

A forgotten toy on a bedroom shelf

Sometimes you don't even know yourself

With all my past pain as a brand new start

And the strength of conviction to set me apart

I thought myself special, even better than most

Emotions of lead, the heart of a ghost

I'd pretend to be strong, could care less what you did

As I ran out the back, or kept myself hid

Now you here at my door, with me still your fool

Just another lost child in the drowning pool

A man on a ledge, with a lipstick scar

Sometimes you just don't know who you are

Your grey eyes are open, though you don't speak a word

With my sayin' 'I love you', as the last thing you heard

It's clear I'm not special, not a part of some plan

Only one in a billion, just one more man

Now your heart's in a box, on a closet shelf

For sometimes I don't even know myself

~Fish

Death Less Conventional

Within the past two years, around seventy thousand Syrians have died as a result of the civil war there.  The recent chemical weapons attacks are estimated to have killed around one thousand, five hundred. 

(Math...)

(Okay- fifteen into seventy, four, then ten, about forty-six, doubled and a little more...)

That puts the percentage of Syrian deaths due to recent chemical attacks at just over two percent of the total deaths durin' the past two years of civil war.  Two years...

Huh...!

Ain't it odd how the United States, and the Rest of the World as well, stood back and watched, (granted, with an appropriate amount of the obligatory disdain) for two years, while tens of thousands of people in Syria died in any number of violent ways?  Death by anything from torture to gunfire to bombings and God only knows what else.  

But then, when some of the very same people are wholesale poisoned, we drag from storage our Righteous Indignation, and proclaim that such a heinous act is categorically unacceptable!  An outrage!  A line has been crossed!

Fifteen hundred vs. seventy thousand.

Fifteen hundred men, women, and children vs. seventy thousand men, women, and children.

For me, after a brief, but thoughtful, comparison, the greatest difference between these two figures is obvious: they are two distinctly different figures.  That's it!  That's the biggest difference!

One figure bein' a relative shitload  greater than the other.  Both are body counts.  Sums of dead people.  And yes, their respective routes to an end are broad and varied.  But, the destination is exactly the same.  Exactly the same.  

Dead.

Are the deaths of the first seventy thousand of these people somehow diminished by the fact that their lives were taken by the use of "conventional weapons"?  

("Conventional weapons"...  Now how freakin' brilliant a phrase is that?!!)

Now, I ain't sayin' that all forms of death are equal in regard to sufferin' or mercy, or the lack of either.  The point I'm hopin' to make is that the result is the same- Death.  I've said it before- Death knows no "degrees".  Ain't no "very dead", or "kinda dead".  These may exist as literary or oratory devices, but, as actual conditions, these simply do not exist.  Dead is an extremely narrow and specific (permanent?) state of being.  

And everyone can think whatever they will about an "Afterlife".  But, if there is one, I'm bettin' that Cause of Death ain't a particularly popular Topic of Discussion among those that are there hangin' out.  

Example:

"I sure wish I had been struck by somethin' smaller than that semi- like a pickup or a sedan, maybe..."  

Or even:

"I don't care what anybody says- freezin' to death is about one of the best ways to go out as anyone could wish for."  

See?  Now that shit just sounds stupid.

(I'm havin' trouble comin' up with some sort of analogy, reasonable or absurd, that might explain or even help clarify the dissonance of this situation.  But don't count me out- not just yet...)

It seems that somehow, ain't got a friggin' clue how, but somehow, we, the Human Race, have developed some kinda bizarre skill or aptitude or whatever ya wanna call it, that allows us to freely divorce the Results of Mass Murder from the Methods of Mass Murder.  We can entertain each of these as entirely free-standin' concepts, and discuss, examine, and formulate ideas relatin' to one, while completely ignorin' the other.  

Utterly freakin'  fascinatin'!

So, what of the Father tryin' to make his way home after workin' a menial job, only to fall victim to indiscriminate gunfire?  What of the Mother that hears the shellin' and shoos her Children into their modest dwellin', only to have it collapse as a result of rocket fire, thus crushin' them in the rubble, extinguishin' their lives?  Or, the young man, stomped and beaten by his Tormenters as they repeatedly insist he share anything he might know about efforts to resist the slaughter, only to wind up with his brains blown across the sidewalk, regardless of what he did or didn't know or share?  Or, the young girl, dragged into an alley and brutalized for no other reason save that Conflict creates an arena where the Base and the Vile might carry out their perverse desires, free of Conscience or the Fear of Justice or Retribution?  What about those people?

Fifteen hundred men, women, and children vs. seventy thousand men, women, and children.

Do these things not play well enough in the headlines of the mornin' paper?  Are they too complicated to be distilled into a  suitable sound bite for the crawl at the bottom of the screen?  Are they too far away?

Has Death become passé?  Are we that desensitized?  Must we "dress it up" before we consume it?  

Is it just too borin'?

Now, this must surely be a sign of a Truly Advanced Species.

Never before have I  been more Goddamn Proud...

~Fish~

"Silo"