Happy Anniversary Mr. President!
Happy Anniversary Mr. President! It’s been three years since you marched your forces into Iraq to rid them of a tyrannical, pompous despot called Saddam. You also filled them with hope about a life of peace, stability and more importantly liberty.
Three years on and who would have imagined that you’d still be there? The promises you made are worthless and a far cry from the reality that grips the nation of Iraq today. Bit by bit, you have milked her dry, not just of her resources, but you’ve also managed to strip her of every ounce of dignity she possesses. From a once resourceful beautiful princess, you have reduced her to nothing more than a common whore. And you just keep taking and taking from her. You must be mighty pleased with yourself.
Perhaps we underestimated your stupidity and over-estimated your intelligence. Or were it the reverse? Did we underestimate your intelligence, your shrewdness? It’s difficult to tell. Alas! The light that shines on the truth is a flickering and dim.
There are hundreds of journalists in Iraq today who flirt with danger on a daily basis to give us an account of your actions there. Judging by their reports over 2,300 American soldiers and 103 British troops have been killed. An average of 60 -70 Iraqis die every day and of course several journalists, peace workers and humanitarians have been abducted and killed.
Tell me Mr. President, how do you justify their deaths? What do you tell the relatives of your troops? Do you tell them that their sons, daughters, husbands and fathers were killed in battle for oil? Just what goes through your mind when you see images of dead bodies of Iraqi men, women and children loaded on the back of a truck or lying on the streets like strewn bits of garbage? Is there even a flicker or remorse in your heart; a split second when you fully grasp the magnitude of the horror you have created?
How will you mark the day Mr. President? Will you and your advisers and supporters gather and watch a spectacular firework and aerial display in the Iraqi skies? Or will you cheer, like you do at a baseball game, when you gather together in the Oval office to view tapes showing some of your soldiers bullying and shaming defenceless prisoners at Abu Ghraib?
When you bleed a nation dry, and long after she has shed her tears, her pain gets converted to hate. And it is this hate, which will drive her to seek revenge, to make someone pay for her pain. Sadly, the future generation of Americans will pay the heavy price for your war. They will be burdened with your guilt. They will be the ones to live in fear. That, Mr. President, is your legacy – your gift to the children of America.
We are almost upon the season of spring - a time for new life, for renewal of hope. Will there be a respite for Iraq after her long never ending winter of despair?
Perhaps some day in Iraq, the statues of Saddam that were toppled will be replaced by bronze statues of an American Mule – A GIANT ASS named George. A symbol of pretentious liberty and hope. Perhaps the children of Iraq will be allowed to indulge themselves in a game of “hitting the donkey”. For the sake of the children, I do hope this day comes and comes soon. Because it will mean that the sounds of war, violence and gunfire have been silenced by the joy and laughter of children. Peace and hope will be restored and children can dream once again of a future that you viciously robbed them off. And when that day comes Mr. President, Iraq will rejoice. I will rejoice. And the world will rejoice. It will be spring in Iraq.
Three years on and who would have imagined that you’d still be there? The promises you made are worthless and a far cry from the reality that grips the nation of Iraq today. Bit by bit, you have milked her dry, not just of her resources, but you’ve also managed to strip her of every ounce of dignity she possesses. From a once resourceful beautiful princess, you have reduced her to nothing more than a common whore. And you just keep taking and taking from her. You must be mighty pleased with yourself.
Perhaps we underestimated your stupidity and over-estimated your intelligence. Or were it the reverse? Did we underestimate your intelligence, your shrewdness? It’s difficult to tell. Alas! The light that shines on the truth is a flickering and dim.
There are hundreds of journalists in Iraq today who flirt with danger on a daily basis to give us an account of your actions there. Judging by their reports over 2,300 American soldiers and 103 British troops have been killed. An average of 60 -70 Iraqis die every day and of course several journalists, peace workers and humanitarians have been abducted and killed.
Tell me Mr. President, how do you justify their deaths? What do you tell the relatives of your troops? Do you tell them that their sons, daughters, husbands and fathers were killed in battle for oil? Just what goes through your mind when you see images of dead bodies of Iraqi men, women and children loaded on the back of a truck or lying on the streets like strewn bits of garbage? Is there even a flicker or remorse in your heart; a split second when you fully grasp the magnitude of the horror you have created?
How will you mark the day Mr. President? Will you and your advisers and supporters gather and watch a spectacular firework and aerial display in the Iraqi skies? Or will you cheer, like you do at a baseball game, when you gather together in the Oval office to view tapes showing some of your soldiers bullying and shaming defenceless prisoners at Abu Ghraib?
When you bleed a nation dry, and long after she has shed her tears, her pain gets converted to hate. And it is this hate, which will drive her to seek revenge, to make someone pay for her pain. Sadly, the future generation of Americans will pay the heavy price for your war. They will be burdened with your guilt. They will be the ones to live in fear. That, Mr. President, is your legacy – your gift to the children of America.
We are almost upon the season of spring - a time for new life, for renewal of hope. Will there be a respite for Iraq after her long never ending winter of despair?
Perhaps some day in Iraq, the statues of Saddam that were toppled will be replaced by bronze statues of an American Mule – A GIANT ASS named George. A symbol of pretentious liberty and hope. Perhaps the children of Iraq will be allowed to indulge themselves in a game of “hitting the donkey”. For the sake of the children, I do hope this day comes and comes soon. Because it will mean that the sounds of war, violence and gunfire have been silenced by the joy and laughter of children. Peace and hope will be restored and children can dream once again of a future that you viciously robbed them off. And when that day comes Mr. President, Iraq will rejoice. I will rejoice. And the world will rejoice. It will be spring in Iraq.
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