Dear Uncle Sam
Posted by Rebecca Wed, 06 Aug 2008 19:51:00 GMT
Dear Uncle Sam,
You suck, sir. Suck. I’m an American, true blue and I can say whatever the hell I want. I’m still American, bite me.
You suck because you are chicken shit. Yep. You are. Afraid of ideas. Big hulking scary ideas. They hide under your bed at night, listening to you breathe. Once your breathing changes into that of precious REM sleep, they climb out, drooling their contagious communist ooze all over your room before gobbling you up and turning you into idea poop.
That means you’ve got to get the jump on them. These idea monsters have got to be stopped. They can’t go breed more. We just can’t let it happen.
So you plot and plan and appeal to the poor and the rowdy and convince them, force them to go kill your monsters with guns and gunnies and grenades. Napalm. Dioxin. Kill the monsters and take out the innocent you protect and your men who protect them. You chicken shit bastard.
Homesick boys. Bring the boys home, sick. Legs blown off and deaf, mysterious burning rashes and chronic nightmares. Bone degeneration and nerve damage. Box up the rest and ship them U.S. Mail. Postage is cheap.
That’s the price for what you call freedom. Freedom for who? Freedom from what? You, sir, are a fat ass coward.
Let me ask you this. What is the price of man? What of his mother, father, brothers, sisters, wife, children, grandchildren? What of their years on earth? What do they cost you?
Nothing. You spend them like pennies - too many to count and kind of a nuisance to keep up with anyway.
Forty-one years in a war that was never won. Forty-one years, ka-POW in the brain, stuck in the jungle, can’t get home.
Now I am the enemy. My name is Charlie. See? I look just like him. Don’t spill the milk on the floor, or you’ll get a grenade for your birthday. Eat all your dinner, or get the M-16 for dessert. Senseless and thought it was my fault.
Thought it was daddy’s fault.
Your fault. He pays. Did time. Lost love. I pay. A lot. You took his youth and mine you selfish son of bitch.
The war rages on. It is not my war. It never was. But I have no choice but to fight it. Every damn day I fight it. I hope you burn forever.
Babies sitting on hills of stinging, biting ants. The screams. Their screams. Listen. Listen to them screaming! See their red faces. Drink their tears. Watch them die. Watch them get eaten.
Can’t help them. Booby trap.
Headline: U.S. invades life of twelve year-old American girl, innocence confiscated. Experts say she will never be the same again.
You took our lives before we drew breath, because you took his.
How do you sleep? He doesn’t. Put him prison, he doesn’t do his job. He doesn’t do anything.
We are out of ammo. Our radio is busted, no air support. The enemy surrounds us. Who will kill our monsters?
Where are you, Uncle Sam? Why have you abandoned your red, white and blue friends? Why have you left us alone?
Bitterly,
Your niece.
