Hey ya'll...
Aight, anybody who knows me knows that I have always been a hometown sports fan. Meaning, I like the Redskins (despite the racist moniker) and the Wizards through rain, sleet, or snow. That being said, you may remember my frustration a couple of days ago when we lost to the frickin' Golden State Warriors, again. Well, my Wizards (I also hate this racist moniker) redeemed themselves as they beat the Trailblazers in Portland! In fact, we never lost our lead, or even tied! The only blow was how the crowd reacted when an anti- war demonstrator laid in the middle of the court during a break. I guess basketball is more important thean this war bullshit. Then, the commentators illustrated how one of the staff on the Wizards bench is a world war II veteran, as he cheered with the rest of the crowd when the protestor was carried off. Why would a vetran of any real war, applaud this bullshit that's going on now. I'm sure he's seen some shit during WW II, man. Folks are so brainwashed on this Iraq crap it's not even funny. That looming sense of fear that America had when 9/11 happened, or for Metro Area residents, the Sniper bullshit...those people over there deal with every day. They never know when a car bombing is going to happen, or when a bunch of opposing sides are going to start bustin in the streets! We see and hear so much raw shit on the news on a regular basis, we've become desensitized to what goes on in the world. Dog, people are dying in this war, and there is no legitimate reason behind it. We gave Sadaam all those missles and all that money, he was America's best friend during the Reagan Administration...now you want to be on some bullshit?! Here's something I wrote yesterday...it's from the perspective of a 15 year old boy overseas in the middle east, but he could easily be vietnamese, or japanese. Just a little devils advocate so people realize there are faces and stories to the people who die over there, whether the news says so or not.
The Detour

Just like every other day for the last five or so years
He came to my door to go to school
A straight A student with dreams of living abroad
We both worked hard
While other pupils were just space dust
We were stars
Stellar super novas who walked past foreign soldiers every day on our way to school
Today, he had his book bag, which he never liked to wear because it wasn’t “American” to do so
He came to the door with a massive grin
Anxious to ditch school to head in town towards the inn where they served all the American’s
Once on a weekend we got in trouble for that
So we dare not go there again
But here he is with this wide- eyed grin
We agreed that we were going to be friends to the end
So if one of us got in trouble,
Then the other had to follow suit and jump in
It was our pact
Undeniable like one plus one
Just fact
So here we are again headed towards the inn except this time while schools in session
On the way,
He talked about how he was going to make a difference one day
Our people would no longer be killed
This cannot be Allah’s will
But we are only fifteen, so let’s be real
(Besides, what did we really understand of God at our age?)
We are too young for politics and just right for the killing fields
Neither option leaves us feeling thrilled
So, in an attempt to change our fate we acquire life skills
Jobs most of you don’t want to do, but more than pay the bills
And we go to school
But not today, for you see
We
Are on our way to the inn
The same place where the American GI men whore our women
Talking evil talk while downing tonic and gin
They become your enemy once they live here
They come as your friends
My best friend is a good person
But he hates them
Which should have raised the question
Why is he greeting every one of them,
With a grin?

He walks over to the highest ranking soldier and orders him a round
To our surprise, he asks us to sit down
The officer spoke at length about his family and his home that he wanted to protect
So not coming here to police us would be like neglect
He said this wasn’t about religion, or politics, or even a personal agenda
This was about power
And we were all pawns
And as he yawned
My friend pulled a folded note that was attached to his bag by a string
Careful not to break the thing in the process
With a smile that would beguile most any man
He placed the note in the officers free hand
My friend told him to read it aloud as the inebriated officer ordered another round
The note said:
This is for the rape of my lands under the guise of freedom and Good Samaritan masks that hide political sanctions of genocide for economic growth of everybody but the ones who need it. For the bullets that knocked on my door leaving younger siblings on the floor covered in the same blood that flows through you veins. This is for the war you started that you yourself would never feel the effects of. This is for the patrols on my streets that run through my town. For the carnage you have brought. For the liquor you’ve bought which turned into rape and unclaimed children. For the double- talk you do in the news, speaking against chemical warfare when you place your HIV disease in every foreign country you see as a potential colony. You even do it to your own for population control purposes. This is for all the stories that didn’t get to show their other side as every story should. This is for you who will at least know truth, because my story will never air on your evening news. Just the fact some GI’s died.
And as he exposed the bomb in his book bag, about to pull the string,
He asked the officer,
“Now if you were me,
What would you do?”
All the while hoping that this would somehow, make a difference