A DUDE OF A COUNTRY

A surprisingly large number of incredibly duped American people jumped up and down and howled with joy at the murder of Osama bin Laden. Some of the people jumping up and down and howling had been told as youngsters that killing was not to fill them with wild glee. But they were just kids then. Some among them had even been told as youngsters not to work for companies that make massacre machinery. That was before maturity set in.

Our country can say, “What do I care about the lies I told yesterday?” Saying that helps our country to not be plagued by a guilty conscience.

The United States of America and the republic for which it stands is trembling with excited glory about killing Osama bin Laden and capturing 13 children ages two to 13 in the massacre. The United States of America is the greatest dude of a country since God only knows when. Yet I worry about my country’s mental status. I am perplexed, divided. I don’t know if I love my country for killing Osama bin Laden and capturing 13 children or whether I want to leave it because of that. Norway is a nice little country.

I’m standing now in front of the World Trade Center while the United States of America thumps its chest and breathes noisily in and out about its kill and rolls its eyes around in its great head. And I think, “Go ahead, my country, bray as long as you want to. In time to come, they’ll slash you back.” But where would they slash? The United States of America is so big, so great, so strong that it seems to be slash-proof.

When I got here, ten years ago, a neighbor, as astute a man as ever I’ve met told me everything I needed to know about my country’s dark side. “You criminal crook!”  I wanted to yell at my country. And I wanted to get a knife and have the courage to use it. But my country would have noticed that and would have done with me exactly what it has done with Osama bin Laden ten years later.

However, I am also in love with my country, the handsome United States of America. The United States doesn’t feel any remorse for killing, but I know it would sincerely like to at another time. Osama bin Laden is dead as a doornail and at the bottom of the sea. As regards our love for each other, my country says to me, “I’m busy right now, but call again in September.”
“You must be nuts. September!” I think and curse my country and can’t believe it, for sheer joy. “Oh, my United States of America and the republic for which you stand, you’re my shining light, my force of good. America, my America, I love you.”
And if you ask is there any justice in the world, you’ll have to be satisfied with the reply: Not for the time being.

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About judyjablow123

In my youth I was a world class tournament golfer. I earned an MA in history at NYU, after which I knew I had had enough of academia. I have remained a student of history. I have a strongly personal - almost entirely negative- take on the contemporary pharmaceutical and mental health industries. That was the impetus for my Bluepolar blog, which will also include stuff on sports, history and anything else that strikes my interest.
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