An
American Story
by Maka Fairman
This country has been my only home
since birth. The country is America. There have been times that I have felt
close to becoming a patriot, but the blood of my native ancestors forbade such
disloyal heart and I have stayed from government tentacles the best I could all
these years.
It’s hard to live outside the eye of Big Brother these days, especially since
Homeland Security has been slowly taking over the communications systems. That
would be Mr. Rumsfeld’s department, probably, since his interests lay with
Bechtel. All avenues of controlling the American populace have been signed,
sealed and padded $$$ on delivery, by the taxpayers’ own hand. Americans will
pay for their own funeral, after embracing their murderers. It’s only a matter
of time before the American people realize they are in prison. By then it will
be too late.
Since
the Vietnam killings I could never again, in good faith, call myself American.
Today, my shame overshadows any sort of patriotism. It behooves me to learn
about this government, one we have been forced to support through our taxes,
permits, fees and penalties, a government that has the audacity to kill
innocent human beings in our name, with our hard earned money. This
dishonorable act in my name and my fellow American’s name cannot go without
judgment for these high treason war crimes committed in Iraq, as these
so-called government leaders seem to believe. They will be stopped, if not by
man, by the karmic order of God.
The atrocities of Vietnam were swept under the table by the military and US
government working hand in hand and behind the back of the public, just like
Iraq. There was no truth for the American public other than TV or radio. The
daily TV news programs, compiled by the prostitutes in mainstream media always
showed the brave American soldiers creating peace in a Communist territory, on
the other side of the world. There was no Internet in those days to grind out
the real truth, and even if there was, Americans were completely isolated from
reality and truth. They could not have read between lines that did not exist
for them.
Being married to a Marine who had just served two (three year) tours in Vietnam
prior to 1963, I learned of innumerable and unmentionable atrocities that
happened in Vietnam. Man’s inhumanity to man. These stories have not surfaced
to this day, even as this government schemes to raze Iraq to the ground,
killing anything that moves: women, children, old men, young boys, dogs, cats,
ANYTHING that moves ... just like Vietnam. The only difference between Vietnam
and Iraq are the high tech military toys that destroy the lives of not only the
Iraqi people but the American military as well, in an instant, instead of a
day.
What other plan had the designers of this war in mind, other than to subjugate
all life in the Middle East so they could control the oil supply... and the
world? New US military weapons are fashioned with nuclear material depleted
uranium with a half-live of over a billion years - none there will survive. Out
of 450,000 Vietnam military participants who came back from Vietnam, not
counting the 57,000 recorded deaths on the WALL, 16,000 have died since coming
home, and 325,000 are on some sort of medicine for their unknown disorders.
That leaves less than 10,000 men and women healthy survivors of Vietnam.
Since the UN adopted economic sanctions in 1945 in its charter as a means of
maintaining global order, the USA has used these sanctions fourteen times, and
twelve of those sanctions have been implemented since 1990. Only those
sanctions imposed on Iraq have been the most damaging. Who was the president at
that time? George Herbert Walker Bush. Since then, 500,000 Iraqi children under
the age of five have died as a result of those sanctions... almost three times
as many as the number killed in the atomic bomb attacks on Japan.
We are human beings on this planet, none of us with the right to take another
human being’s life, much less for no apparent reason... other than greed.
Vietnam absorbed thousands of human lives before Americans ever knew they were
at war with anyone. In fact, war was never really mentioned by the average
citizen because America was declared to be in peacetime during those horrific
years. Only the military and the government knew what was taking place. Lies on
top of lies, just like today.
From my own experience with my Marine husband, who was by his excellent record,
regarded to be one of the President’s “One Hundred.” After his duty to the
Corps ended in 1963, he did not stay in one place long enough for Uncle Sam to
find him again for service, Presidents’ One Hundred or not. During our
marriage, the government caught up to him three times in our six years
together, but they never managed to hold him. He was murdered in 1992 from a
still-unexplained incident.
There were stories told to me by my Marine husband that I could barely believe
in those sixties days. Having come from a fundamentally religious family, my
husband looked more like the Devil than a human being. He told me how Americans
killed our own men in Vietnam, sometime just out of hate over a trivial
argument. Its too bad he’s dead, because now there’s no proof of the black bags
that floated in the canals with aborted GI fetuses. Uncle Sam didn’t mind if
our boys had a little fun raping the pretty little Vietnamese girls, after all
they were so far from home, so far from their loved ones who wouldn’t know the
difference one way or another. Besides, they were Gooks. I learned also that it
could hardly be called rape, when the girl was so hungry she was willing to
give it up for merely one American chocolate bar.
George Galloway is definitely a hero in my books. Even though he was put on the
American hit list he still has the balls to stand up for the truth. He has
shown the American Senate how they should handle their government. It is
probably wasted effort on Mr. Galloway’s part, not that he had any other choice
than to defend his honor, but the US government body is far too corrupt to
change policy in mid-stream, unless it is changed for them. Mr. Galloway’s
gallant stand may be the rock that starts the ripple of change. Who knows? He
certainly does not mince his words, and would there be only a few more like
him, our world may get a second chance to survive. Thank God Mr. Galloway made
it back to Britain without incident or mishap.
In the meantime in the Middle East, the beat goes on.
Maka Fairman is an internationally published reporter based in Alaska. She can
be reached at faelucky@netscape.net