Some campaign-fine, high-minded words, I’ll bet Obama’s betting this March 28, 2011. “But America is still left ‘rudderless'” should be our response to his disingenuous reason-for-being-there speech on Libya. Then, again, even that wouldn’t begin to describe the depth and breadth of the misery Obama ramps up for this nation with each passing day. The Issue is larger than the large Libya Issue.
When this president and putative Commander in Chief’s immediate objective was to shut a military prison holding enemy combatants who engaged and killed his countrymen-soldiers and, by extension, American citizens, millions knew right there, we had trouble in our own national back yard. Guess what.
The whether-or-not-to-get-involved-in issue is nothing new: Monroe’s, let’s not get involved in foreign “affairs”; the American Isolationist Movement; let the Europeans fight this one out; that’s the Jews’ war . . .
Call it what they will, we are, and have been, at war. Bullets, bombs, and body parts are flying every which way, and still . . . still we’ve yet to hear this Fifth Columnist of a national leader even say metaphorically of our “undeclared” battles and battle dead, “We are in a war on terror.” Only now, the order is out to refer to wars and battles as, “kinetic military action.” Kinnetic . . . Military . . . Action. “NUMBER OF PERSONNEL MORTALLY SUFFERING KMA’s:,” unit Morning Reports will read.
This has really tripped the emotional wires across America. I see and hear a shared national anger that grows still hotter because we just can’t get some common relief from this president. Everything, virtually everything in our national life and polity is being compressed, distorted, disrespected, ripped apart : law, political conduct, language, national values, traditions, the Constitution, prices at supermarkets and gas stations–all turned on their respective heads by a now-suspect, failing American government. It’s put millions more of us in some immeasurable, unrelieved rage.
I feel it, my neighbors feel it–especially now, when I envision our past wars from down on the ground of the American infantry guy, enveloped in every kind of detritus of battle and human body, and when I think of his unearthly places that made Dante’s Inferno a Heaven, and of the unrelenting, personal terror that never let him alone;
especially now, when I continue to see the great gap in my Manhattan skyline, whose ugly hole at the base is covered over by an artsy, delicate, and meek below-ground necropolis “memorial” to mark “the passing” of some 3,000 American civilians murdered by terrorists who’ve engaged us for a timeless war they started;
especially now, when I think of the life sacrifices Americans have made by choice, or had to make by chance, or by no choice; and
especially now, when I think of all such things against a backdrop of a scheming president and administration, and what they are purposely doing to hobble, diminish, push us off course, disarm us, and reduce us to a third-rate nation no better than the Third-World nations who have, in their demonstrable way, “formerly declared” war to murder us all.