Week Whatever

 

Its been quite a while since I last wrote.  I don’t really know why.   The reason lies somewhere between a loss of inspiration or compassion.

 

I find myself periodically thinking that these people may be just a large number of weak minded individuals awaiting the next smarter soul to conquer them.

 

Immediately you might find yourself exclaiming…Some very intelligent people have come from Iraq!

 

Really…

 

Name some.

 

I’m at a loss.

 

Are you certain that the last turban wearing scholar you met wasn’t Indian?

 

Every nation must have contributed at some point to overall world advancement.   We have to give the Iraqis the benefit of the doubt.  Okay, so there are some smart people here.  I’ve met plenty.  They are all trying to get to America…Somehow.

 

Is the distribution the same as in other countries?  I’ve met some friggen ignoramuses in the States.  We certainly have our share of stupidity.

 

But I keep coming back to the same sad thought:  My own dog won’t shit in the same place that she sleeps.  She’ll hold it until she busts or gets an infection.

 

These people will shit in the corner of their house before they’ll go outside.  Not all, but way more than I should have statistically met.

 

I’ve got pictures of 3000 Iraqi soldiers living in an aircraft hanger that have defecated inside the same walls.  It doesn’t rain here.  Couldn’t they have gone outside?

 

And people ridicule ME for being jaded.

 

Explain THAT crap.

 

I can’t.

 

Okay, so they’ve been oppressed.

 

Somehow I doubt Saddam forced these people to live like vermin.  He kept his own palaces clean.  Rumor has it that he would kill people for littering.  Apparently he had to kill hundreds.  I’d like to think that in the States, after you shot the first or second person, the place would stay pretty clean.

 

I think the oppression card has been played a little too far.

 

No, I’m sorry, I can’t give you cold hard evidence, it’s just a feeling I’m getting.

 

Little mafia’s are popping up everywhere.  Everywhere that two or three smart individuals figure out how to dominate their neighbors.

 

How the hell is a strong central government supposed to control this?

 

I saw some graffiti on the wall at the convention center.  The translation was: “A nation of sheep lead by a government of wolves.”

 

I’m scared…

 

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In the midst of all this one of our soldiers shot himself.  On purpose.

 

Put two rounds through his skull.

 

I wondered where all the blood went until I helped the CID (Criminal Investigation Division) move the mattress.

 

You’d be amazed how much blood an inexpensive mattress will absorb.

 

I inspected his body when I got to the scene.  CPR was useless.  It was all the last few fading beats of his heart could do to pump a little geyser out of his forehead.  When I ran my fingers behind his head I found the exit hole.  My hand slipped in easily and I saw the tip of my gloved finger where his last thought must have been.

 

I wonder what it was.

 

Do you think he was wrapped up in the plight of these poor Iraqis?

 

Do you think that he was overcome with grief from the surrounding suffering of these people?

 

My guess, is like the rest of us, he was still the center of his own universe.  Iraq was miles away.

 

I was here, but I left weeks ago, now I’m just waiting for the ARMY to release my body back to the States, or for something worthwhile to bring me back to Iraq.  So far, despite a little kid with a big head, I haven’t seen it recently.

 

Here’s a thought.  See if you can follow it.  It makes sense to me.

 

We made these people’s problem.

We made these people’s problem our own.

We brought our own problems.

These people’s problems started long before we got here to make them.

When we leave, we’ll take our own problems with us,

we’ll leave some for the Iraqis,

and

the Iraqis will still have the same damn problems they’ve had since the beginning of humanity.

 

 

Sincerely,

 

A bitter and jaded Daniel

 

Next Week:  Jew hating She-Mom, Extreme Balcony Lounging, My favorite cigars, and a few novel ideas on healthcare.

 

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