FacebookTwitterGoogle+RedditEmail

The Damned

I was invited, not long ago, via email, to a Candlelight vigil to stop the invasion of Iraq, or melt the icy heart of Rumsfeld, or short-circuit the electronic ticker of the Veep, I’m not quite sure.

I was thinking more along the lines of angry mobs with pitchforks and torches converging on the Bastille or Castle Frankenstein to rid the country of this plague. Half a dozen madmen slinking out of the Bastille, squinting, confused. The MONSTER, product of dead flesh and high tech wizardry, grunting at the roaring mob (the movie version with Karloff; Mary Shelley’s Creature was far too articulate, sensitive, HUMAN, for this show). Guess not.

Then again, maybe it isn’t about saving the Iraqi people from carnage at all. Maybe the good folks attending the prayer vigil are out to save their own souls, and ours. Save all our starched WHITE American souls. Too late for all that. Possibly. Probably.

We are about to become the worst generation since Hitler’s junky boys stomped around Europe stealing art and wrecking cities. If you’re over 18 and of sound mind and body, you will be guilty. No, your little god won’t save you, whoever he is. Chances are he already wants to kick your yellow ass for not giving a goddamn about the epic slaughter you’re about to pay for with your tax money and soul. The day of the attack he’s gonna waggle his giant thing at you–with or without foreskin–and stomp out of your house of worship forever.

Germans paid for the Holocaust and WWII with Dresden, Berlin and a nation turned to rubble. Not to mention five decades of guilt and infamy. What price America? The bill’s long overdue.

True, most governments are either classical fictions written on paper, or jazz riffs blown out of a gun, but once you get some guy on a gun solo and the hips start swaying and the boots start marching it’s usually a show-stopper. Brings down the house. Nevertheless, we still have enough people in and out of uniform who believe this is some sort of democracy, or at least a republic as outlined on that piece of parchment. Chance to overthrow this tin-pot tyranny, as proscribed in that very parchment (amended and revised so many times by now it’s done in WordPerfect and translated into PDF for public perusal)?

Possibly. But chances are we won’t take it.

The best of us will march in THE MAN’s patented non-violent (except for police brutality) licensed parades, like sheep in a pen, often with lambs in tow. They’ll get to go home thinking they’re lions in wool, only to bleat “Yassah! Bossman!” in school or their sheep jobs the next day. The worst of us are still jerking off over video highlights of Desert Storm. Most don’t REALLY give a damn one way or the other. Well, maybe if there’s a pollster around they’ll vote “yes” instead of “no” or vice versa according to how the poll is worded, but they ain’t gonna get off that couch on Sunday for no damn Iraqis. If they’re so innocent, those towel heads, why don’t they just depose Saddam? Eh? Ever think of that?

“If YOU’RE so innocent, why don’t you just depose Bush?” says Mr. B, a native of Baghdad awaiting his first rendez-vous with a cruise missile. “We’re caught between Saddam and a hard place. You Americans, you’re supposed to be a free people, no?”

There’s an idea. Maybe it’s time for the 250 some-odd million Americans who do not work for the government but rather, pay for it, to call their loans, repossess their property, take matters into their own hands.

I’m not proposing anything VIOLENT (perish the thought), just interesting, and most importantly, effective.

Candle light vigil my ass. I’m thinking ten million of us converging upon Washington D.C. with torches, like those stalwart monster-movie villagers. With all do respect to the candle-light crowd, prayers ain’t gonna do it now. In fact it seems like a desperate attempt on the part of the damned for some salvation, a balm to their raw-wound spirits. Worse, it’s something that pious pissant, Ashcroft, might approve of.

Hell, I was a mouse myself in the maze of police barricades set up for Bloomberg Inc.’s experiment in crowd control on February 15th in NYC. Don’t get me wrong. It’s great that people are displaying enough concern over what is about to happen to light candles and pray, but it’s time for a bit more than concern or even marching in the MAN’S orderly, peaceful demonstrations in which the only folks who get hurt are peaceful demonstrators beaten up, brutalized, and arrested on side streets away from the cameras, but not beyond the ken of the well-meaning but ineffectual ACLU.

Civil Disobedience does not mean non-violent obedience to the MAN’S determination of what constitutes a safe respectable parade. It’s gumming up the works by throwing bodies into the gut of the machine; it’s putting bodies between THE MAN’S soldiers and their victims. For gods sake, it’s being willing to get hurt. That’s the problem here. As soon as one mentions any kind of “unconventional” protest or action, the chorus of “non violence” is raised and all it’s saying really is “I don’t wanna get hurt and I want to be at work on time on Monday.”

What about ten million people from all fifty states walking, boating, flying, bussing, whatever to Washington D.C. and just shutting the place down? The sheer numbers, a mass movement of un-armed bodies taking over their own capital. Pilgrimage to the “citadel of democracy.” How many of us would THE MAN be willing to shoot? And what would be the consequences? Would he nuke HIS own capital?

Malcolm X, MLK, Dorothy Day, Black Elk and Sitting Bull, Gandhi etc. turned to prayer for strength to help them fight, not as an admission of defeat, for that’s what these prayer vigils and “show protests” mean to me: defeat. “It’s all over, but maybe we can console ourselves with prayer.” Never mind that whatever gods we’re praying to will walk out of their respective houses of worship and gather at Olympus Diner for beer and pizza the minute the first bombs fall on Iraq.

Imagine our friend, Mr. B, in his Baghdad apartment, his wife grieving over the loss of their eldest daughter to some preventable disease made incurable by sanctions, the rest of his five children malnourished and depressed, and all he hears is about how Bush is gonna shock and awe him and turn off his electricity with an e-bomb, and there’s a knock at the door. It’s his neighbor, Mr. A, who tells him “Good news, good news.” “Saddam is dead!” “Better.” “Bush is dead?” “Better still: the good people of America are praying for us!”

Oh, who will save us–and the rest of the planet–from our sorry selves? We’ve lost everything but our souls, and we may only have a few weeks to hold on to those. Prevent, prevent, prevent. Or REPENT. The choice is still ours. I think. Maybe.

ADAM ENGEL has nothing against prayer and all that spiritual stuff. He just thinks angry mobs with torches and pitchforks are more effective in removing evil monsters from the castle. He can be reached at: asengel@attglobal.net

 

More articles by:

Adam Engel is editor of bluddlefilth.org. Submit your soul to bluddlefilth@yahoo.com. Human units, both foreign and domestic, are encouraged to send text, video, graphic, and audio art(ifacts), so long as they’re bluddlefilthy and from The Depths.

Weekend Edition
July 20, 2018
Friday - Sunday
Paul Atwood
Peace or Armageddon: Take Your Pick
Paul Street
No Liberal Rallies Yet for the Children of Yemen
Nick Pemberton
The Bipartisan War on Central and South American Women
Jeffrey St. Clair
Roaming Charges: Are You Putin Me On?
Andrew Levine
Sovereignty: What Is It Good For? 
Brian Cloughley
The Trump/NATO Debacle and the Profit Motive
David Rosen
Trump’s Supreme Pick Escalates America’s War on Sex 
Melvin Goodman
Montenegro and the “Manchurian Candidate”
Salvador   Rangel
“These Are Not Our Kids”: The Racial Capitalism of Caging Children at the Border
Matthew Stevenson
Going Home Again to Trump’s America
Louis Proyect
Jeremy Corbyn, Bernie Sanders and the Dilemmas of the Left
Patrick Cockburn
Iraqi Protests: “Bad Government, Bad Roads, Bad Weather, Bad People”
Robert Fantina
Has It Really Come to This?
Russell Mokhiber
Kristin Lawless on the Corporate Takeover of the American Kitchen
John W. Whitehead
It’s All Fake: Reality TV That Masquerades as American Politics
Patrick Bobilin
In Your Period Piece, I Would be the Help
Ramzy Baroud
The Massacre of Inn Din: How Rohingya Are Lynched and Held Responsible
Robert Fisk
How Weapons Made in Bosnia Fueled Syria’s Bleak Civil War
Gary Leupp
Trump’s Helsinki Press Conference and Public Disgrace
Josh Hoxie
Our Missing $10 Trillion
Martha Rosenberg
Pharma “Screening” Is a Ploy to Seize More Patients
Basav Sen
Brett Kavanaugh Would be a Disaster for the Climate
David Lau
The Origins of Local AFT 4400: a Profile of Julie Olsen Edwards
Rohullah Naderi
The Elusive Pursuit of Peace by Afghanistan
Binoy Kampmark
Shaking Establishments: The Ocasio-Cortez Effect
John Laforge
18 Protesters Cut Into German Air Base to Protest US Nuclear Weapons Deployment
Christopher Brauchli
Trump and the Swedish Question
Chia-Chia Wang
Local Police Shouldn’t Collaborate With ICE
Paul Lyons
YouTube’s Content ID – A Case Study
Jill Richardson
Soon You Won’t be Able to Use Food Stamps at Farmers’ Markets, But That’s Not the Half of It
Kevin MacKay
Climate Change is Proving Worse Than We Imagined, So Why Aren’t We Confronting its Root Cause?
Thomas Knapp
Elections: More than Half of Americans Believe Fairy Tales are Real
Ralph Nader
Warner Slack—Doctor for the People Forever
Lee Ballinger
Soccer, Baseball and Immigration
Louis Yako
Celebrating the Wounds of Exile with Poetry
Ron Jacobs
Working Class Fiction—Not Just Surplus Value
Perry Hoberman
You Can’t Vote Out Fascism… You Have to Drive It From Power!
Robert Koehler
Guns and Racism, on the Rocks
Nyla Ali Khan
Kashmir: Implementation with Integrity and Will to Resolve
Justin Anderson
Elon Musk vs. the Media
Graham Peebles
A Time of Hope for Ethiopia
Kollibri terre Sonnenblume
Homophobia in the Service of Anti-Trumpism is Still Homophobic (Even When it’s the New York Times)
Martin Billheimer
Childhood, Ferocious Sleep
David Yearsley
The Glories of the Grammophone
Tom Clark
Gameplanning the Patriotic Retributive Attack on Montenegro
FacebookTwitterGoogle+RedditEmail