Rock Accountant

Category: Terrorism

Poem: The Noticed

It is deserved that we each are noticed now when we kill.
For soldiers have sacrificed and died neglected,
For so very a long time.
It is a novel time of little murders.
No trumpets or uniforms starched.
And no bands will march and play

 No histories will recall or iron generals sculptured

for kids to climb on shooting

each other with their fingers loaded

Now there will be no end.
For every soul has become an army.
Charging up hills upon the unsuspecting

An uncharming way to kill.

 

 

 

 

If you vote for either one, so are you.

Mr Obama has routinely exalted the answer to this stampede of slaughter in America to stricter guns laws. It is both politically expedient and at least partially the case.
Reasons for insanity are rarely neatly tucked into corners ready for impossible solutions, though.
I have asked this question before, but never, ever, hear it addressed by anyone. Not the media, not the government, not even within the universe of the all paranoid FaceBook and Internet.
Who is so powerful that they can produce these weapons and distribute them so widely? But never be mentioned.
Why aren’t these industries being targeted? People smoked cigarettes, so we shut down the powerful companies that made them. Some people felt they were constantly being insulted, so we shut down free speech. We wanted drugs, so we turned Mexico into our garden. We wanted cheap oil, so we destroyed the Middle East but not the oil fields.
Be very afraid of the answer to this because it is dangerous. More dangerous than terrorism. Your political parties are part of the lie. If you vote for either one, so are you.

 

 

Terrorism and Turkey legs

I had more than my share of reasons to be thankful this Thanksgiving. Not one of which is that Thanksgiving needs capitalization.
Like many parts of my character, there is an unmistakable dark side. When I understand, that terrorists will do what they will do unstoppably, I digest better knowing they are, day to day, miserable and that I am not.
Wise people say success is the best revenge. Being a reincarnationist, I try hard not to gloat over their misery but this is next to impossible with a turkey leg in my hand, and with thighs slathered by escaped gravy.
I could come back as one of them I know. I just hope that when I do reoccur I take care to protect the weak rather than randomly slaughter children.
The greatest gift is the allowance to struggle to succeed. Without this, we are slugs leaving slime trails to be soon dried out by the sun. I am an American, so I know this kind of shit comes ingrained in me. Still, this is the only prescription left to us by God.

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