the american way


I’m looking at you. You’re looking at me. We’re looking in a mirror and we don’t know what we see. This reflects badly on our upbringing.

Missile silos full of mega-death. Earth movers with wheels as big around as Walden Pond. And you want me to stand up and fight for freedom?

He touched the small of her back with his cash-register fingers and the earth moved. He gave her a rifle and she shot off her toes and cut her hair short. Maimed and devoted, she was ready to fight the good fight.

She tied a grenade to the prisoner’s genitals and pulled the pin. The way to fight assaults on freedom is nip it in the bud. The last thing we need is a nursery full of baby terrorists.

Back home they put the finishing touches on the candidates’ make-up–one woman, half a Black, and a token WASP.
This is the American Way. You can love it, and once you could leave it, but not anymore.Guantanamo is a state of mind that’s grown legs.

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