Least we forget. Those who died did not do wrong. Those who died were not evil. Those who died will never be forgotten by those who knew them and loved them.
This applies to all people who have died in the sadistic, satanic and evil actions of terrorists. Even if those terrorists though they were martyrs of righteousness. Even if those terrorists were, in their minds, killing, maiming, destroying human life in the name of justice and retribution. Their ways will always be the wrong way.
War is also an act of murder when the violence is proscribed towards civilians. The weapons of mass destruction have taken the warfare out of war between two opposing armies and put warfare into the physical hands of politicians, who sit comfortably in their armchairs whilst destruction and death fall down upon civilians.
Not for them the smell of blood and death. Like the generals of old sitting comfortably away from the action as the armed forces thundered into battle with bullets and bombs going off all around them. Keep your nerves boys they said as they poured out their port. Won’t be long now till this glorious battle has been won and I collect my medal and the glory and the praise.
The same for the wars of today. The glory and the honour is soaked up by the politicians. Where are the scars of battle on the likes of the Bush’s, father and son, and Blair? Did they hear the screams of the children and woman? Did they rush to the aid of a dying comrade? Comfortable chairs and a nice glass of port. Plenty of time to write their new books.
The religious fanatics who dance to the death of the others, they are no better than the Blairs’ and the Bushs’. They too sit in their opulence safety, worshipped by people who should really know better. The Popes of the Crusades, the Nazi’s of past. All to the distant sounds of death did they laugh. The new Popes and Nazis are walking around, and to the sound of death they too do laugh.
We are not laughing, we are just numb. That in this day and we could be so dumb. Fight for the glory, fight the soul, fight for the freedom, which you will then control, but whatever you do, as you sip your next glass, make sure others do the fighting for you, so you don’t feel the draft of death creeping up upon you, ready to pounce, to devour your life. You sing to the tune of freedom for all, but only the freedom that is worthy to you. Where were you in Zimbabwe and Somalia too, in other countries where your ‘brothers’ rule?
Where are you when oil and diamonds and rich minerals and gold are not in those countries where you could be bold? Not for those peoples do you sing to the tune of freedom, nor do you send others to sing or to dance, you who do this are the least worthy of men. Whatever you do, do not get out of your chair, or walk to the window and hear the cries, for indeed you may catch a glance of the dead and smell the blood and hear their cries. Death is your hero, but you are not wise. Sad human you are. Sick in spirit and soul. Be you religious or atheist I care not to know. Your deeds have been written your words have been heard. Sit in your chair do not move at all, the one thing we do know is that death takes us all.
In memory of those who did not chose to die and those that did in the false belief that they had the right to kill. And to hope that one day good will triumph over evil, and knowing that not all who say they are good are good, and that not all we think are bad are bad.
In loving memory of the wisdom of my Dad – George Donald Parker.