literature

American Life -C-

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Christianonfire7's avatar
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Literature Text


The news this morning was not unlike any other day. Windbags spew their political agendas trying to win over voters by November, celebrities' personal lives and failed relationships make the headlines--and if you scroll down, you can find a less popular article, near the bottom of the page, about suicide bombers in Afghanistan killing 38 and wounding around 100 people in the deadliest attack of the year.

We lose two people from gunfire in Texas and the pages and news become bombed with headlines. One Christian Constable dead. But in another land where fourteen crazy bombers believe their suicide, that the death of twenty-five civilians and eleven police officers would win them praise. But that's never worthy news to share, because why should we Americans care?

After all, there are more important things in the world today than the deaths of a few brown folks on another continent. The United States took home 46 gold medals from the London Olympics, and a broken-hearted celebrity finally allowed an interview for the first time since his breakup. The troubles of other countries are not our problem. No Americans are affected by all this death, anyway.

For we have our own battles to fight, to send men and women, boys and girls to a foreign land where those brown folks become our enemies. We, that stay behind form this image in our mind, that they aren't human. That their death, even those whom are innocent, are for our gain. For our freedom. When in truth we are more poisoned than a mad venomous snake, filled with folklore and lies from Government schemes.  

We see men and women in uniform and we know they're winning the war for us, slaughtering those people who are different from us so that we can carry on as though nothing has changed. We salute our soldiers, praise our marines, when we see them. But any day we don't is an ordinary day of reality television and online shopping; we forget that our troops are dying, too.

Their sacrifices we sometimes see as just another dollar lost, just a handful of coins tossed into a wishing well. Wishes for our own needs, not theirs. They suffer the heat, they suffer the longing of loneness, and we suffer the desire for another roll of candy. Sucking away, unconcerned with the lives that die for us to enjoy this treat.

Odds are, at least one soldier was killed somewhere today. His wife and children are at home awaiting a message from him, and they won't know for a few days that he's gone.
How are we spending today?

This is another collab with the amazingly awesomely epically 'Surreal Express' :iconsurrealcachinnation:

Her part of American life.

This idea spurred up in a Facebook conversation a few weeks back because it's a very near and dear subject to the both of us.

First line was written by her and second by me and so on.



To all the brave men and women, this is for you. You are NOT forgotten. :salute:




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