Issue #14
June 1, 2003
A
War Carol
by
Michael P. Anderson
(c)
(apologizing,
in advance, to Charles Dickens’ ghost)
“I have endeavored in this Ghostly little
book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my 
readers out of
humour with themselves, with each other, with the [war] season, or with
me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it.”
Their Faithful Friend and Servant, Charles Dickens, December 1843
[It is a tepid and muggy late-winter night in
Washington D.C. Deep within the White House, George Bush sits calmly on a
hard kitchen chair, quietly reading Leviticus 1:5. Just an hour before,
President Bush has gone on national television to announce to the world
that Saddam Hussein has 48 hours to flee Baghdad or the dogs of war will
be unleashed upon his country. (Music) A banner, possibly a projection,
appears in front of the proscenium: it reads “March 17, 2003 In
America”.]
GB:
(Reading softly, out loud to himself, from the Old Testament, Lord and
Moses talking, Leviticus 1:5) (Music continues) “He shall kill the
bullock before the Lord. And the priests, Aaron’s sons, shall bring the
blood, and sprinkle the blood round about upon the alter that is by the
door of the tabernacle of the congregation…and he shall flay the burnt
offering, and cut it into pieces.” (He leafs through, then reads from
Deuteronomy 14:25) “Then shalt thou turn the tithe into money, and bind
up the money in thine hand, and shalt go unto the place which the Lord thy
God shall choose…and thou shalt bestow that money for whatsoever thy
soul lusteth after: for oxen, or for sheep, or for wine, or for strong
drink, or for whatsoever thy soul desireth…and thou shalt eat there
before the Lord thy God, and thou shalt rejoice, thou and thine
household.”
[There
are two hard knocks on an inside door. GB gets up to answer it, thinking
it is one of his Secret Service agents.]
GB:
(Exasperated) Hey Mikey, I thought I told you guys I needed…ahhh!! (He
jumps back in horror after he sees who is at the door)
[It
is a man, or rather, what is left of a man. His skin is burned black over
his entire body, he is naked. His eyes cannot be seen. His mouth is but a
bloody hole in his face. And yet he can speak perfectly well.]
GB:
Who are you…and..what’s wrong with you?..WHO ARE YOU!?
PAST:
I am the Ghost of War Past. My name is Walter. I was in the North Tower of
the World Trade Center when it was hit by American Airlines Flight 11. My
remains were never found because my body was completely burned away by the
jet fuel. One minute I was a stock broker with Avalon Partners. The next I
was ash. Nothing left.
GB:
My god! What..are you…(He moves to push a button to notify the Secret
Service.)
PAST:
You are the only one who can see me. And as long as I am with you, no one
can see you either. Do you wish to know why I have come? Do you wish to
hear me? 
GB:
(In shock and awe) Are you an angel? Has my Lord, my God...has Jesus come
to advise me..on the eve of this war against Iraq, our war against evil?
PAST:
Yes, I am here to advise you, though I do not know if I am an angel. I do
know that I was once a man who voted for you, George Bush. Please, take my
arm. Come with me, I have something to show you.
[GB
warily takes his arm. (Music) They are now inside a typical office
building, and PAST is a handsome middle-aged man in a dark business suit.]
G
B:
Hey, you’re not burnt anymore! You’re a good looking guy! Looks like
you played football, eh? Big chest, heh…mind if I call you RT?
(Smirking) That’s short for right tackle. (He looks around at the
cubicles and offices) Where are we?
PAST:
We’re inside the World Trade Center. That’s my office over there.
GB:
What are you talking about? The towers were destroyed by the terrorists in
September 2001.
PAST:
(He shows GB his wrist) Look at my watch. What does it say?
GB:
September 11, 2001…but that’s the past!
PAST:
(Grinning) I guess that’s why they call me War Past.
GB:
No, you’re RT, there’s nothing wrong with you.
PAST:
Not yet. (He looks at his watch again) See? It’s 8:30 AM. We’re on the
92nd floor of the North Tower.
GB:
The North Tower of the World Trade Center?? A plane is going to crash into this building. We have to get out of
here!
PAST:
It doesn’t matter. That’s all in the past and cannot be changed.
Don’t be afraid, you aren’t going to die. But I thought you should see
what it was like for those of us who were surprised by our own deaths on
that bright September morning.
GB:
RT, we gotta get outa here. At least save yourself…
PAST:
It’s too late for me George. But it’s not too late for you. Come into
my office.
[They
go into his office and shut the door. PAST takes a video tape from the top
of his desk and places it into a VCR/television that sits on a cherry wood
table in front of a small couch. He leads GB to the couch and they both
sit.]
GB:
You want to show me something on the television, RT?
PAST:
Since I was burned to death, I have had the opportunity to read and listen
to people all over the world who have been trying to understand what
happened on 9-11. As you know, not only did the World Trade towers
collapse, but our Pentagon was also hit by hijacked airliners. I don’t
know if you have heard these things, George, but some people are saying
that you knew those planes were going to be hijacked, that America was
going to be attacked. Not me George. I don’t think you would have let
something like that happen without doing something about it. That’s why
I voted for you, because I think you’re a man of integrity, the kind of
man who stands up for what is right. But I think there are other men who
work in the government, men who pretend to stand outside the government,
men who work in the dark, who believe the ends justifies the means. Men
who will do anything to achieve certain goals. They work for money, but
more importantly, they work for a twisted loyalty. Some of them work with
an honest belief that they are doing the right thing. But they aren’t. I
don’t know who these men are, George, but I am hoping that you can help
the world find out. I think these men knew what was going to happen, that
planes were going to be hijacked, that horrible explosions were about to
kill
thousands of Americans like me. And they decided to let it happen
anyway, because they knew that once America was attacked, a particular
political agenda would finally be realized.
GB:
You’re crazy.
PAST:
America is fighting a “war against terrorism” today. It is a war like
all wars, it had to start somehow. Nations always begin war after a
horrible event, even though the prelude to war before that event becomes
evident only to historians. That is how it was with Vietnam and World War
II. And America was ripe for a war in the fall of 2001, George. Terrorists
had been bombing our embassies, our ships and our army barracks for
decades, ever since the revolution in Iran. But something had to happen
here at home for people to rally behind a new war.
GB:
I don’t have to listen to this…
PAST:
No, you don’t. But I’m hoping that after I show you this videotape,
you will want to learn more. There are many people who are asking hundreds
of questions about what happened that day. People like my wife, George.
Every morning she has to tell my five-year-old daughter that her daddy is
still dead. My wife wants to know why so many people were betting during
the week before 9-11 that American and United Airlines’ stock would
suddenly plunge in the very near future. And why our intelligence agencies
either didn’t notice this unusual stock activity or ignored it. She
wants to know why our fighter jets were unable to intercept the hijacked
planes before they killed all the people.
GB:
There are good answers to those questions. But the answers are classified.
PAST:
That’s not going to cut it with the American people, George. Not today
and certainly not tomorrow. Trust me on this. They know they have been
lied to by their federal government before. The answers are going to come
out one way or another. It would be better if they came from you. For you,
and for history.
GB:
It’s not up to me to decide. 
PAST:
We don’t have much time left. Please let me show you this tape. It was
made by Stan Goff, a 26-year military veteran. I know you have a lot of
respect for the military. Stan is a retired Special Forces Master Sergeant
who was the tactics instructor at the U.S. Army’s Jungle Operations
Training Center in Panama and taught Military Science and Doctrine at the
U.S. Military Academy at West Point. He was also involved with military
operations in eight battlefield conflicts from Vietnam to Haiti. He knows
war.
[PAST
pushes the play button on the remote and they watch the tape. GOFF is
standing against a leafy backdrop, perhaps at a luxury resort, staring
directly into the camera.]
GOFF:
“I have no idea why people aren’t asking some very specific questions
about the actions of Bush and company on the day of the attacks. Four
planes get hijacked and deviate from their flight plans, all the while on
FAA radar. The planes are all hijacked between 7:45 and 8:10 AM Eastern
Daylight Time. Who is notified? This is an event already that is
unprecedented. But the President is not notified and continues going to a
Florida elementary school to hear children read…By around 8:15 AM, it
should be very apparent that something is terribly wrong. The President is
glad-handing teachers. By 8:45, when American Airlines Flight 11 crashes
into the North Tower, Bush is settling in with the children for his photo
ops at Booker Elementary. Four planes have obviously been hijacked
simultaneously, an event never before seen in history, and one has just
dived into the worlds best known twin towers, and still no one notifies
the Commander in Chief…No one has apparently scrambled any Air Force
interceptors either. At 9:03, United Flight 175 crashes into the other
World Trade Center building. At 9:05, Andrew Card, the Presidential Chief
of Staff whispers to George W. Bush. Bush ‘briefly turns somber’
according to reporters. Does he cancel the school visit and convene an
emergency meeting? No. He resumes listening to second graders, and
continues this banality even as American Airlines Flight 77 conducts an
unscheduled point turn over Ohio and heads back in the direction of
Washington D.C….Has he instructed Chief of Staff Card to scramble the
Air Force? No. An excruciating 25 minutes later, he finally deigns to give
a public statement telling the United States what they have already
figured out: that there’s been an attack by hijacked planes on the World
Trade Center. There’s a hijacked plane bee lining to Washington, but has
the Air Force been scrambled to defend the capitol yet? No…At 9:30 AM,
when he makes his announcement, American Flight 77 is still 10 minutes
from its target, the Pentagon. The Administration will later claim they
had no way of knowing that the Pentagon might be a target, and that they
thought Flight 77 was headed to the White House, but the fact is that the
plane has already flown south and past the White House no-fly zone, and is
in fact tearing through the sky at over 400 nauts…At 9:35 AM, this plane
conducts another turn, 360 degrees over the Pentagon, all the while
tracked by radar, and the Pentagon is not evacuated, and there are still
no fast-movers from the Air Force in the sky over Alexandria and DC. Now,
the real kicker: a pilot they want us to believe was trained at a Florida
puddle-jumper school for Piper Cubs and Cessnas, conducts a
well-controlled downward spiral, descending the last 7,000 feet in
two-and-a-half minutes, brings the plane in so low and flat that it clips
the electrical wires across the street from the Pentagon, and flies it
with pinpoint accuracy into the side of the building at 460 nauts…When
the theory about learning to fly this well at the puddle jumper school
began to lose ground, it was added that they received further training on
a flight simulator. This is like saying you prepared your teenager for her
first drive on I-40 at rush hour by buying her a video driving game. There
is a story being constructed about these events.”
[The
tapes goes to black, then snow. GB and PAST still stare at the screen.]
GB:
(Finally turning to PAST) Horseshit. All of it.
PAST:
Yes, maybe. But there are too many people asking the questions. My wife is
one of them. And the wives of my friends with whom I worked at Avalon
Partners. They all deserve to know what happened. Some of what your men
have said about the events that day don’t make any sense at all. Only
you can fix that, George. Your place in history depends on it. (He stands)
Come to the window. This is what war is like.
GB:
Nnn..I can’t..got to get back…
[PAST shows him his watch again. There is the low groan of jet engines off in the distance, growing stronger. PAST takes GB’s arm, they walk to one of the long vertical windows. The jet grows larger and larger until suddenly, its belly fills the glass. There is a tremendous explosion.]
GB:
RT!! Hold on to me! Maybe we can get out…help..smoke. (He watches as
PAST is consumed by fire) Oh God, save him! He’s burning! (He tries to
put out the fire, but cannot) He’s going to die!! Someone please..!
PAST:
(Speaking clearly through the fire that has consumed his face and body)
President Bush, this is the violence I will live with for all eternity.
This is the violence of Verdun, of Bataan, of My Lai and Hiroshima. This
is the sound, smell, and taste of all war. It is a fire that burns as hot
as the sun.
[Suddenly
the sound stops and GB is back in the White House, sitting on the kitchen
chair. His clothes are untouched by fire, no smell of smoke even. But he
is clearly agitated, and there is heavy sweat on his brow. (Music)]
GB:
(Noticing he is back in the kitchen) What the hell…oh my God. (He puts
his palms on his forehead and closes his eyes..when he opens them he
notices that the Bible is on the same page as where he left it. He opens
it quickly and begins to leaf through the pages, in search of appropriate
scripture) Yes, OK… (He begins to read Lamentations 1:15) “The Lord
hath trodden underfoot all my mighty men in the midst of me, he hath
called an assembly against me to crush my young men…the Lord hath
trodden the virgin, the daughter of Judah, as in a winepress…for these
things I weep, mine eye runneth down with water, because the comforter
that should relieve my soul is far from me, my children are desolate,
because the enemy prevailed.”
[Three
barely discernable knocks are heard on the inside door. George turns the
page and continues reading to himself, almost in a fever. The knocks come
again, just a little louder.]
GB:
Who’s knocking there?
[Three
quiet knocks again.]
GB:
(Agitated) Who’s there!
[Three
knocks.]
GB:
Jesus, I swear…(He moves to the door and opens it...on the other side of
the threshold is a young Iraqi boy, perhaps 10 years old) What do you
want?
PRESENT:
Are you George Bush, President of the United States?
GB:
(He laughs just a bit) Why surely son, how did you get in here? Where are
your folks?
PRESENT:
I have no “folks,” they are dead.
GB:
(Suddenly noticing that the boy does not have a right hand) Son, what
happened to your hand? Are you lost?
PRESENT:
No sir, I am not lost. I have come to be with you for a sit.
GB:
A sit? What you are talking about…are you sure your parents aren’t
around here somewhere? Heh, you remind me of one of Gramps’ “little
brown ones.” Hey, do you like to play ball? I think I have a mitt around
here somewhere.
PRESENT:
I am the Ghost of War Present. I would like a sit with you.
GB:
Sure, I guess with that hand you’re not going to want to mess with a
mitt…what happened to your hand?
PRESENT:
This is how I was born. My mother lived in Basra during your father’s
war, I think my hand is this way because of
DU.
GB:
DU…
PRESENT:
Depleted uranium. Your war department makes ordinance out of it. Shells
and bombs. It’s a very heavy metal, and it turns to powder when it
explodes. But it is not good for babies, or their mothers, to breathe the
dust, apparently.
GB:
OK, I get the picture, this is a bad dream, and my imagination is taking
the Christmas Carol--which is one of my favorite stories I’ll have you
know--and turning it against me. Well fine, I’ll be waking up soon. So
go for it. I don’t care.
PRESENT:
I don’t care either, sir.
GB:
Good, something we can agree on. (Smirking) OK Mr. War Present, show me
your stuff.
PRESENT:
I have no “stuff” sir.
GB:
Do you have any brothers and sisters?
PRESENT:
No sir, they are dead as well. We have had very little food for a long
time. They all died when they were babies.
GB:
No food? You live in Iraq?
PRESENT:
Yes sir, in Baghdad now. But it is hard to get food. I am usually very
hungry.
GB:
Yeah, the sanctions. Well, good news young man! The United States is
coming to your rescue. The evil-man Saddam will soon be history. No more
sanctions, once this war takes care of the business at hand!
PRESENT:
What was the point of the sanctions?
GB:
To stop Saddam from possessing weapons of mass destruction.
PRE
SENT:
Did that work?
GB:
Well, no. And that is why America is going to war. Sanctions did not work,
so we must destroy Saddam and his evil regime.
PRESENT:
I know that Saddam is evil. I also have heard that there is much evil all
over world. Do other evil men possess weapons of mass destruction?
GB:
Of course! But they are deterred by what we call “mutually assured
destruction.” People who have horrible weapons, and who also happen to
be our enemy, know that if they were to ever use them against us that we
would do the same against them. Since no one wants to be totally
destroyed, we are able to keep the peace.
PRESENT:
And this doesn’t work with Saddam?
GB:
Of course not. He wants to give his weapons of mass destruction to people
who also hate us, terrorists who can’t be traced back to him. Mutually
assured destruction doesn’t work on terrorists like Al Qaida.
PRESENT:
Are there other evil men who possess weapons of mass destruction who might
pass them on to terrorists?
GB:
Yes there are.
PRESENT:
Do they have sanctions against them?
GB:
Well, no. Since they have many weapons, more than Saddam, we have to deal
with them a bit differently. They’ve deterred us from immediate action.
(He smirks and grins) But we’re keeping a close eye on ‘em.
PRESENT:
I see. So the best way to have no sanctions from your country is to have
as many weapons of mass destruction as possible.
GB:
No! You are totally misunderstanding my point…
PRESENT:
Maybe there is another way. Why are the French not supporting your new
war?
GB:
Because they are too weak to understand when military power is necessary
to make change in the world.
PRESENT:
That is not what my uncle says. He says it is because the French are not
worried about Saddam’s weapons of mass destruction, that they have been
Iraqi business partners for some time. He says that your war is because
Saddam made you feel bad when he recently chose to use European money
instead of American money to sell his oil. My uncle says that when people
live under fairness, justice and opportunity, have a positive future, and
they have dignity, food to eat, and a roof over their heads, then
terrorism goes away. He says this is something the people of France know
now after all the horrible wars that have been visited upon them for
hundreds and hundreds of years. He says Americans are still learning about
this.
GB:
You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. The world is a lot
more complicated than that.
PRESENT:
Yes sir. For you, I think.
GB:
OK look, I have a lot of work to do. Let’s call the Secret Service and
they can help you find your parents, OK?
[PRESENT
extends his arm with no hand and touches GB. They are now somewhere in the
Iraqi desert. (Music)]
GB:
Oh great, here we go again. Where are we now?
PRESENT:
See those tents? Your soldiers are inside. Let’s go see them.
[They
walk through an opening in one of the tents.]
PRESENT:
That is Lt. Curtis there. His friends call him Jimmy. He’s from
Texarkana, Texas. Do you see that book he’s reading? His friend from New
York gave it to him before he left for Kuwait. They were in school
together from kindergarten through high school, but have become less close
since Jimmy decided to join the U.S. Army.
GB:
…the cover says “Armies of the…Night.”
PRESENT:
Yes, by Norman Mailer. A wonderful book about the protests during your
Vietnam War, many years ago…Jimmy is reading about the U.S. Marshalls
who are arresting Mr. Mailer in front of the Pentagon. Let’s listen…
JIMMY:
(His mind is reading out loud) “…if there was a common unattractive
element to the..small-town face [of the Marshalls], it was in that painful
pinch between their stinginess and their greed. No excess of love seemed
ever to come off a poor white boy, no fats, no riches, no sweets, just the
avidity for such wealth. But there had been sadness attached to this in
the old days, a sorrow; in the pinch of their cheeks was the kind of
abnegation and loneliness which spoke of what was tender and what was lost
forever. So they had dignity. Now the hollows in their faces spoke of men
who were rabid and toothless, the tenderness had turned corrosive, the
abnegation had been replaced by hate, dull hate, cloud banks of hate, the
hatred of failures who had not lost their greed. So [Mailer] was reminded
of a probability he had encountered before: that, nuclear bombs all at
hand, the true war party of America was in all the small towns [towns like
Nevada City], even as the peace parties had to collect in the cities and
the suburbs. Nuclear warfare was dividing the nation. The day of power for
the small-town mind was approaching--‘who
else would be left when atomic war was done?’ would reason the
small-town mind, and in measure to the depth of their personal failure,
would love Vietnam, for Vietnam was the secret hope of a bigger war, and
that bigger war might yet clear the air of races, faces, in fact,
technologies!—all that alienation they could not try to comprehend...”
GB: I’ve heard of Mailer before. He hates those of us who’ve found Jesus.
PRESENT:
Actually, I think he loves you. Just as God loves you.
GB:
OK, that’s fine, God is love and so is Mohammed and Buddha and whoever
else you want to bring into your little sixties party. But Mailer was
talking about Vietnam. This is thirty years later, when we know what the
hell we’re doing. Iraq will never be like Vietnam.
PRESENT:
Vietnam and Iraq are surely different, yes. But in one serious way, they
are the same.
GB:
And how is that?
PRESENT:
They are both wars that tear apart the people in your country. Look at my
country. The only thing that holds us together is the brutality of Saddam.
We are Sunnis and Shiites and Kurds. War separates us, then holds us
together. It does not make for a happy life.
GB:
The people of America believe the war in Iraq will free all the different
factions, and give you and your family a chance at democracy.
PRESENT:
And yet, the truth is that many citizens of your country believe exactly
the opposite, that by attacking Iraq, those factions will become more
violent, with each other as well as against your country. You had a tragic
civil war one-hundred and forty years ago. It was a battle between
geographical regions (except along the Mason-Dixon Line). Today, your
people in every city, every town and village, every county and parish are
divided by this war as well as for other reasons. It is like living in
one, giant Mason-Dixon line. The way you talk amongst yourselves is
becoming increasingly strident. Is this how you want your country to be?
GB:
Of course not. People will eventually come around. They will see that love
of country and love for their religion--whatever that may be--will
overcome any hatred they may harbor for their neighbor. We are a peaceful
country. We will not have a second civil war.
PRESENT:
Do not be so sure. Tensions are very high. There are many high-powered
weapons in your country, spread throughout the populace. You have much to
be afraid of…but you also have many opportunities. You have come a long
way. I have hope that there will be no children like me in your country.
[PRESENT
once again touches GB He is suddenly back sitting on the kitchen chair.
PRESENT is gone. (Music)]
GB:
(Holding his head in his hands)..ohhh..I am looking forward to waking up
this morning sometime..such a dream….(He once again picks up his Bible
and turns immediately to Revelation 20:7, and then, mumbling to himself)
…read..my favorites “..and when the thousand years are expired, Satan
shall be loosed out of his prison, and shall go out to deceive the nations
which are in the four quarters of the earth…Gog and Ma-Gog, to gather
them together to battle: the number of whom is as the sand of the
sea…and they went up on the breadth of the earth, and compassed the camp
of the saints about, and the beloved city: and Fire came down from God out
of Heaven, and Devoured Them.”
[Suddenly
the inside door bursts open. A middle-aged white woman, well-endowed and
dressed in a colorful kimono that she has obviously tie-dyed herself,
romps into the room. She immediately explodes into song, extremely
off-key, unfortunately.]
FUTURE:
“I-magine there’s no country, it isn’t hard to do…Imagine all the
people, li-ving in harmon-eeee-e-eee!!”
GB:
Hey, a little consideration there, if you don’t mind. Let me get some
cotton before you start that again…
FUTURE:
“Sign, sign, everywhere a sign, blockin’ out the scenery, breakin’
my mind, do this, don’t do that, can’t you read the si-iiii-gn.”
GB:
Oh geeze!
FUTURE:
Hi there handsome. Want to take a spin on the Mama Cass look-alike
machine?
GB:
Huh? (He notices that she has multi-colored peace symbols painted on each
cheek on her face) (Smirking and grimacing) Are those peace signs?
FUTURE:
They sure ain’t Nike swooshes, are they now honey?
GB:
Who the hell are you and how did you get past the Secret Service?…Hey, I
think I remember seeing you before, aren’t you that crazy woman that
stands outside the barricades all day and night, pounding that god-damned
drum?
FUTURE:
The one and only. At your service.
GB:
Who are you? What’s your name?
FUTURE:
I woulda thought you had guessed by now. I am the Ghost of War Future.
GB:
Oh. Right. (He slumps, not smirking)
FUTURE:
Shall we go for a ride?
[Several
beats. (Stop Music)]
GB:
Why not? What do I have to do, touch the daffodils in your hair and
we’ll be traveling first class on the love train? (Ironically)
FUTURE:
Well, yes, that’s pretty much it. But it’s better if you grab hold the
stems.
[George
shakes his head dismissively, then grabs hold of the daffodil stems
nonetheless. Instantly they are sitting on a couch somewhere in the
American suburbs. It is a weeknight, 11:34 PM.]
FUTURE:
This is where I grew up. A new family lives here now.
GB:
(Being nice) Nice carpet. Nice couches, too.
FUTURE:
Yup. So, can I paint your face like mine?
GB:
(Frowning) What do you think?
FUTURE:
No, I probably can’t. But
you should try it sometime. It’s really fun.
GB:
Umm, OK…and why, again, are we sitting on this couch together?
FUTURE:
Do you know Ted Koppel?
GB:
Obviously. He’s a good man. I call him The Wave, Breaker for short.
Because of his hair, ya know.
FUTURE:
Whatever makes it right, honey. Anyway, Ted is coming on the TV soon.
He’s going to tell us how things are going in Iraq.
GB:
Great! That’s some information I could really use. Hopefully, Saddam H.
Evilbastard has left Baghdad by now.
FUTURE:
Oh yes, he left during your war many years ago. But there are other things
happening now. Remember…future?
GB:
Oh..right. (Suddenly getting it) Ted Koppel is still around?
FUTURE:
Sure, what else would he do? As long as America is held hostage, he’s
got a job.
GB:
True…
FUTURE:
He’s going to talk on the new terms.
GB:
New terms?
FUTURE:
Terms according to international law. I know you hated the International
Court, but it eventually came to pass. Your trial at The Hague had a lot
to do with that. Your historical legacy.
GB:
Excuse me?
FUTURE:
Here comes Ted. Let’s watch.
KOPPEL
(now at the end of his broadcasting career): “Across the Tigris River,
there are men and machines lying in a twisted heap. A remaining
testimonial to the Great Iraq War. A memorial to a time in history when
great and powerful world forces met to decide an appropriate end to
twentieth century politics. I am standing today at the Broadcasting War
Memorial, and inside this building is where forty-seven world journalists
were killed in a bombing attack that went horribly awry. Robert Fisk was
here, and from his diary we learned that ‘we had no idea that people
could be so cruel and inhumane…what has the world come to?’ Ladies and
gentlemen, this was the beginning of the reformation.”
[The
sound of the TV fades into the background.]
GB:
What is he talking about?
FUTURE:
That war you started? Didn’t go too well. At first things were fine. You
were able to secure the oil wells, and the UN lined up to rebuild Iraq.
But later on, shit began to fall apart. Too many weapons in the
population. You couldn’t hold the cities, too many rivalries. And you
couldn’t control the oil production. Eventually the American people told
you and your cronies to get out. Not only that, the American people found
a few ways to use less oil. A lot
less oil actually. It marginalized your gang, honey. (She bangs her drum
to emphasize)
GB:
I got credit for that.
FUTURE:
Oh sure, don’t you worry. Hey, you got to be president, that’s a hell
of lot more than most people can aspire to. (Then to herself) Yup,
that’s still the trouble with that damn job, it only attracts men who have something to prove.
KOPPEL: “…and so we are left with the words of psychologist Lawrence LeShan, who so long ago was able to identify the 7 precepts of how human beings are able to make war acceptable…thank goodness we have finally learned the hard lessons that have made war obsolete…we all mourn those who did not survive before we gained The Wisdom (reading from LeShan’s book):
‘1)
We begin to devalue the other side. Attributes begin to be divided:
generally speaking, the good ones to us and our “brave allies,” the
bad ones to them and their “spineless satellites.” Further, all
members of the enemy group are perceived as similar. Their individual
characteristics drop out and only the negative stereotype is left. This is
the “Prussian,” or the “Hun,” or the “Gook,” or decadent
English,” or “Dink,” or “little yellow bastards” syndrome; it
frequently exists side by side with lip service to the idea that “We
have no quarrel with the Ruritanian people, only with their leaders.”
2)
There is a rapid loss of interest in the reasons for the
differences between “us” and “them.” Different is just how we
are—we are good and benevolent, they are evil and ambitious.
3)
Contrary ideas become dangerous to express. They mark one as a
person to be avoided or punished. Expressing opposition to a prevailing
orthodoxy becomes hazardous, first to a person’s reputation, second to
his or her physical safety. In the McCarthy period, very few high schools
or colleges invited Communists to address them. The very idea of a public
address entitled “The German Point of View” being advertised in
1917-1918 or 1942-1945 strikes us as ludicrous or traitorous. During the
Korean and Vietnam wars, how many television panels and discussions do you
remember where there was a strong presentation of “the North Korean
viewpoint,” or “how the North Vietnamese see the war”?
4)
Those who even question the accepted wisdom are condemned, first
as “unpatriotic,” later as “traitors,” “saboteurs” and so on.
They are seen as dangerous and must be dealt with quickly, efficiently,
and ruthlessly.
5)
Moral standards are no longer applicable to our dealings with “those
people,” as they would only work to our disadvantage. It was seen as
perfectly reasonable in World War II to put Japanese-Americans in
“relocation” camps without trial, and to confiscate their homes,
farms, and stores. Since all “Japanese” (including second- and
third-generation American citizens) were seen as alike—devious,
sinister, and ruthless—this procedure was perceived as not only
acceptable but necessary.
6)
“Our” actions are judged differently than “their” actions.
It was legitimate for us to bomb civilian centers in Baghdad. It was not
legitimate (and was furthermore proof of their evil nature) for the Iraqis
to send random Scud missiles against civilian centers in Saudi Arabia or
Israel. There were similar differences in the moral judgments we and the
Germans made during World War II about the aerial destruction of Coventry
and Hamburg.
7)
The goal of the war shifts from the solution of a present, specific
problem (ending the insane ambitions of a Hitler, keeping the United
States from fragmenting, forcing the Iraqi soldiers out of Kuwait) to a
“glorious cause” (making the world safe for democracy, establishing a
new world order) that will solve all of our problems. The unspoken
belief appears that this is the crucial battle between good and
evil, and after it is won we will have no more problems. Once we start
“happy-ever-aftering,” we have shifted to a mythic viewpoint. One
aspect of this shift is a loss of interest in discussing the causes of
war. It becomes more and more the accepted wisdom that the war is simply
one more example of the evil of the enemy.’”
(Ted
drinks down a tall glass of water) “I’ll return with a program note in
a moment.”
GB:
War Future, he talks about Baghdad as if it were today. But then he talks
about things to come I don’t understand…
FUTURE:…The
Wisdom?
GB:
Yup. And what’s “mythic viewpoint?”
FUTURE:
Honey, war comes in two flavors. A sensory war is a war where the blinders
have come off. Almost every soldier fights in a sensory war because he’s
living the horror of battle. Mythic wars exist more on the home front,
they are fought in the mind by civilians who have never themselves taste
the confused violence that exists on all battlefields. Before the 20th
century, most wars were mythic wars. But when the era of total war began
to stain the world, and civilians found that their neighborhoods had
become the battleground, wars increasingly became sensory wars. And thank
god for that sweetie, because if they hadn’t, our species would have
destroyed itself.
GB:
But you need the folks at home to support the war, or otherwise you lose.
FUTURE:
Everyone lost in modern war. That’s why war is obsolete now. It seems we
have finally realized that using violence to stop violence leads to the
end of the world. Nuclear bombs, deadly chemical and biological poisons,
the total fury of modern war is no longer tolerable in an already ravaged
world. It was time to stop. Asynchronous warfare has put an end to war.
Good fucking riddance.
GB:
It’s time to stop all right. Time to stop evil. That’s why we went
into Iraq. We had to stop Saddam from killing people!
FUTURE:
Do you think you stopped him?
GB:
(Cautiously wondering) Well, you’re the ghost of War Future, why don’t
you tell me?
FUTURE:
That would be too easy. But I will tell you something I know about your
past, something that foretells the future.
GB:
A story?
FUTURE:
A story. A story about a frog.
GB:
Frog?? (Music)
FUTURE:
Time to touch the daffodils again.
[He
does.]
GB:
(In a fog) I’m getting tiny.
FUTURE:
Hold on honey…
[They
are on a side street in the richest neighborhood in Maine. There are
hearty WASP children all around, standing beside the neighborhood pond.
Childhood George Bush is in the center. He is excited.]
CGB:
Hey you guys! Look what I have!
[Three
young girls approach.]
GIRL1:
Toil, toil, geedub.
GIRL2:
Boiling pond of frog legs.
CGB:
I have an M-80! (He holds it up proudly) Let’s tie it to a frog. One of
those frogs in the pond. See what happens!
GIRL3:
Guts everywhere. Big deal.
CGB:
No, you’ll see! It’s cool. Watch! (He begins trolling his hands
through the pond, checking the bottom for frogs) I’ll catch one…
[GB
and FUTURE watch from a distance. GB knows he is watching a scene from his
childhood.]
GIRL1:
Hello knife! Hello M-80! (Mocking)
CGB:
(Continuing to thrash in the pond)…have to catch the son-of-a-bitch.
GIRL2:
Guts on the road. So what.
CGB:
(Finally snagging a frog) Yeah, this guy’ll do. OK buddy, time to meet
yer maker!!
[The
hearty WASP children retreat. The three girls stay forward. CGB wraps the
fuse around the frog. He lights the match.]
GIRL3:
Stupid a-a-a-ass. (Mockingly)
CGB:
You just wish you had an M-80!
[The
explosion. The frog is no more.]
CGB:
YEAH!!!!!!!!
GIRL2:
Jerk.
GIRL1:
Toil and trouble.
[GB
and FUTURE touch again. During the transition, the following dialogue
occurs.]
FUTURE:
Time to go, little boy. Why did you kill the frog?
GB:
I just wanted to show the girls how neat it was! I didn’t gyp ‘em,
neither.
[Now
they are in a giant hall. Maps, blinking lights, chairs in the center.
They are in an ultra-modern war room.]
GB:
Hey, this is the War Room! This is where we planned Saddam’s end! That
son-of-a-bitch never had a chance. (Smirk)
FUTURE:
I have to go now, honey. It’s been fun, except for the frog. You blew up
that frog because you have a broken heart, George. (Pause) Try to mend
that broken heart, honey. (She touches his breast)
[FUTURE
is gone. GB sits in the Big Chair. Condoleeza Rice, Donald Rumsfeld, and
Colin Powell join him. (Music) It is 8:00 PM, March 19, 2003, in America;
time and date are shown by a large banner, possibly a projection.]
DR:
We have the son-of-a-bitch in an unprotected meeting hall, next to the
Intelligence Ministry building. Let’s tie a bomb to his tail and be done
with this! (Grinning like the Cheshire Cat)
CR:
He can’t do it without the speech. Do we have the speech?
DR:
George, give us the “go.”
GB:
(Checking him over) You got ‘em? You sure?
DR:
We’re sure. (Music)
GB:
Go.
CP:
You won’t regret it sir. This is the only way. If we don’t get him
this time, we’ll get him the next. And this war is as good as won…
[Time
passes. Still in the War Room, still the same characters. It is 4:00 AM,
April 7, 2003; large banner.]
GB:
(Looking haggard) Why do they drive into our lines of defense!?
DR:
It seems some Iraqi men are convincing women and their children they will
take them out of Baghdad. Once they get in the car, they are unwitting
accomplices in suicide. The goal of the Iraqis who hate the U.S. is to
creates civilian casualties. That is why they are doing what they are
doing.
CR:…and
yet so many embrace their liberation.
DR:
Those who cannot fathom our good intentions are naturally our enemies
[Still
in the War Room, still the same characters. It is 9:11 PM,
September 11, 2011. Large banner.]
GB:
(Sweating) I need some food. When do we get to eat?
CR:
Not until the war is over.
DR:
(Exasperated) The war will be over when it is over! It is not over now,
but it will be over some-day.
CP:
(Patiently) We know this Donald.
GB:
I need something salty. (Grabs a bag of pretzels)
DR:
Condi, we have to get this thing settled. If we don’t respond like for
like, we’re out of it!
CP:
Containment, contortions, contentment. Stay with me on this…
DR:
We have to respond!!
CR:
We have already lost so much, how much can we afford? Cities,
civilization…
DR:
Does it really matter? We will rebuild! Once we’re finally successful,
when we have prevailed, when we have proven that we were right..we will
bring everyone together. It will be the
great unifying force. Evil will be done. Peace and prosperity will
prevail.
CR:
(Grabbing the bag of pretzels) Don’t be so sure.
GB:
(Grabbing his Bible) OK, enough debate! Why do we always look to every
avenue? Hear this: (Reading from Romans 13:4) “But if thou do that which
is evil, be afraid; for he beareth not the sword in vain: for he is the
minister of God, a revenger to execute
wrath upon him that doeth evil…So, for this, thou shalt not kill, thou
shalt not steal, thou shalt not bear false witness, thou shalt not covet;
and if there be any other commandment, it is briefly comprehended in this
saying, namely—Thou shalt love they neighbor as thyself.” (He
stalks..ponders) (Full of umbrage) I LOVE MY NEIGHBOR AND I AM TIRED OF
THIS WAR!!!!!
CR:
How do we get out?
DR:
You gotta get in to get out…yes.
[PAST,
PRESENT, and FUTURE arrive in the War Room. They are chimeras. As they
alight upon the command deck of the War Room, top hats and canes come to
them from the wings.]
PAST/PRESENT/FUTURE:
Maestro? (Music)
[The band strikes up. It is a musical/dance presentation. GB, CR, CP, and DR join with PAST, PRESENT and FUTURE.]
by
Country Joe & The Fish ©
Yeah, come on all of you, big strong men,
Uncle Sam needs your help
again.
He's got himself in
a terrible jam
Way down yonder in
Vietnam
So put down your
books and pick up a gun,
We're gonna have a
whole lotta fun.
And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I
don't give a damn,
Next stop is
Vietnam;
And it's five,
six, seven,
Open up the
pearly gates,
Well there ain't
no time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
[GOFF
joins the group.]
Well,
come on generals, let's move fast;
Your big chance
has come at last.
Gotta go out and
get those reds —
The only good
commie is the one who's dead
And you know that
peace can only be won
When we've blown
'em all to kingdom come.
And it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for?
Don't ask me, I
don't give a damn,
Next stop is
Vietnam;
And it's five,
six, seven,
Open up the
pearly gates,
Well there ain't
no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're
all gonna die.
[JIMMY
joins the group.]
Well,
come on Wall Street, don't move slow,
Why man, this is
war au-go-go.
There's plenty
good money to be made
By supplying the
Army with the tools of the trade,
Just hope and
pray that if they drop the bomb,
They drop it on
the Viet Cong.
And
it's one, two, three,
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I
don't give a damn,
Next stop is Vietnam.
And it's five, six, seven,
Open up the pearly gates,
Well there ain't no time to wonder why
Whoopee! we're all gonna die.
[KOPPEL
joins the group. FINALE.]
Well,
come on mothers throughout the land,
Pack your boys
off to Vietnam.
Come on fathers,
don't hesitate,
Send 'em off
before it's too late.
Be the first one
on your block
To have your boy
come home in a box.
And it's one, two, three
What are we fighting for ?
Don't ask me, I
don't give a damn,
Next stop is
Vietnam.
And it's five, six,
seven,
Open up the pearly
gates,
Well there ain't no
time to wonder why,
Whoopee! we're all
gonna die.
The
End
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
by Bob Lickter
by Bob Lickter
I think I have a pretty good idea here. Everybody who can read is
upset about where were we "store" our nuclear waste. My God, all thoughts turtles in S. California exposed to radiation.
As the hot stuff percolates down into LA's drinking water we could
really have some real monster ninja turtles, snakes and Gila monsters. Nobody wants this
stuff in their back yard. All the U. S. has to do is make a passel of
those depleted (?) hot bombs and after of few decades of policing the world (don't forget S/
America, i.e.. Columbia, Peru, etc) there will be nothing to store. All
those barefoot 3rd world folks are already covered with sores, have aids and are not
that tall. The ones we do not kill right off will probably be sterile
and our turtles will be safe to sell in pet shops in Paris. So what if our cocaine glows in
the dark? Then the cops eyes will shine just as bright as yours without
those 5 battery jobs they use to beat the shit out of you. Or better yet
you can share the shine. And get off watching all the Kleenex, donut
wrappers and assorted bindles in the back of the squad car give off that lovely uranium blue. (As an added advantage the deadly
illicit drug trade can move to the U. S. where it will be easier to
control-- Stuff like Oxycontin ,Vicodin, tobacco, etc.
Buy Books & Videos on Depleted Uranium - Leftbooks.com has books and
videos about depleted uranium at a discount.