- Wars have long echoes. It is said that the greatest
sin towards our fellow man is not to hate but indifference, and that man's
inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn.
- The echoes of past wars live under bridges, in abandoned
cars and in city parks. The children of those born to veterans drenched
with Agent Orange, or the genetic damage, due to numerous vaccinations,
pills, and exposure to depleted uranium (it cuts through metal like butter),
and massive amounts of pollution, are the Littlest Echoes. You won't hear
their laughter or expressions of awe catching fireflies in the night,
nor the sound of little feet following daddy around the house, wanting
just one more story, or that special tossel to the head and hug, that only
daddy can give as he tucks his little one in bed.
- Indifference and man's inhumanity to man, is most exemplified
in the suffering of those children, no less loved, no less precious than
those of foreign lands. Lands thousands of miles away; under scorching
desert sands, jungle villages, or crowded cities. Children are the Earth's
most precious resource and childhood, a short span of wonderment, discovery
and innocence. What depravity of man's mindless-perverse genius, uses
his intellect--his talents--his creativity to invent diabolical weaponry
that shatters, shreds, napalms, sucks the oxygen from the air, or melts
the flesh of other human beings and innocent children? What lunatic irrationality
poisons air-land-and people with radiated weaponry that lays waste the
land for billions of years and mutates the genes of whole lands--bringing
forth grotesque monsters?
- 696,628 U.S. Soldiers were sent in 1991 to fight a War
in Iraq. 467 U.S.Soldiers were wounded during the War. 148 U.S.Soldiers
were killed during the War (half by friendly fire). 183,000 U.S. Soldiers
are now disabled. 9,600 U.S. Soldiers are now deceased. Depleted Uranium
238 weapons are an unacceptable threat to life, a clear violation of international
law and an assault on human dignity. Depleted Uranium 238 weapons are a
non-conventional weapons type, as it is considered a nuclear based weapon
of mass and/or indiscriminate destruction, continuing to kill combatants
and civilians in a most inhumane way, long after its use.
- Radiation poisoning causes the mutation of the DNA structure
of an individual, causing genetic mutation which are passed on to offspring.
Babies are born with their internal organs outside their bodies, without
sexual organs, without spines, with no heads, with abnormally large heads,
deformed flipper limbs and abnormal brain function. In Basra Iraq, numerous
children are being born with such grotesque deformities. Terrorism? I am
perplexed and stupefied, trying to imagine how you bomb a country for over
ten years, subject it to inhuman sanctions, poison it with depleted uranium,
and then proclaim that through "Shock and Awe" missiles raining
down, cluster bombs shredding the limbs from children, Daisy Cutters sucking
oxygen from the air--exploding eyeballs, that you've come to "liberate"
them into McFreedom, finally setting them loose from a murdering dictator?
- Here we are in the 21st century with weapons enough to
destroy the whole of the planet ten times over. Ha, a supposed Think Tank
on every corner of Foggy Bottom-Washington D.C., politicians done up like
pet nanny goats, puffing and pontificating playing the blame game and stables
full of Public Relations 'experts' of every ilk, from moth balled gray
generals, to designer suited puppets, and not a one of them with an ounce
of common sense or discernible intellect amongst them. The people knew.
- Yes, the people of the Earth, who reside in the real
world of pain-suffering-deprivation-hunger-joblessness--decayed infrastructures,
Enron-Worldcom-Tyco etc., rip offs--closed clinics--rusted mill towns--soup
kitchens--and corporate thuggery, knew and know, the insanity of a world
at war. And so it was that last October saw millions upon millions, upon
millions, marching-singing-protesting--for sanity--for peace to no avail.
Insanity never listens to the voice of reason. Insanity bloated--gorged--and
satiated with the lust for power-control-dominion, are the forever lost
trio on the Yellow Brick road searching for a heart--a brain--and courage.
Finding none they invent it.
- They imagine themselves as wizards--gatekeepers--crusaders
and warriors. Proclamations are issued forth through the lap dog--salivating
media stooges, that the god of perpetual war is on their side. This vengeful--annihilating
god says, "Bring 'em on....wanted dead or alive. We are on a mission,
a crusade to rid the world of terrorism through famine--torture--assassination--napalm--chemicals--mother
bombs--and cluster bombs. Sure some innocents will die mere collateral
damage that's the cost of freedom!" Faceless--nameless--their echoed
cries are smothered, beneath their collapsing farm house walls, the market
place, in desert tents. A bloodied severed hand clasps a doorknob--a little
dark-eyed boy--his arms severed, lies amidst the shredded remains of his
family, and a rag doll little girl is lifted gently from the debris, by
her "liberated" grandfather her feet gone---her little hand
hangs lifeless in this extravaganza of bombs bursting in air of "Shock
and Shame". And the gatekeepers--the crusaders--wizards-- our costumed
warrior, with his testicles strapped in flight suited pride declared a
- One can picture them, far from the stench of charcoal
burning bodies and shredded flesh, climatically gleeful in their ornate
war rooms slurping down the best of scotch in celebratory madness.
- The cannon fodder sent off in a flurry of flags--patriotic
fervor--and marching bands? These youngsters, a few months removed from
skateboarding, roaming the malls, gathering at night with their friends
in parking lots, ghetto tenements, decaying mill towns, rural villages,
and small town U.S.A., believed a man in a glitzy recruiting bus promising
them the education that their unemployed miner or farmer dads could never
afford. They joined in the hopes of a better future, a way out of their
dead end no jobs to be had lives. Others bought the freedom--democracy--save
us from the terrorists. The bus never showed pictures of the dead, blind
and maimed. It never showed the Littlest Echoes born with flipper arms--missing
legs. Reservists, some in their fifties, mostly joined the reserves to
supplement their incomes. The poor always fight rich men's wars, and return
forgotten--misused--begging for medical care and forever changed by the
impossible the unspeakable.
- The millions upon millions, young--old--teacher--veterans--housewives--students--
grandmothers--musicians--poets--artists--etc., who marched last October
to stop a slaughter were labeled extremists and unpatriotic. The perverseness
of our times has the impressionable--the uneducated--the stupid--the ignorant--the
unthinking--the easily led, believing a lie. Most, are so mind-numbed,
that they believe that Saddam was responsible for the Towers Disaster!
- Most know nothing of the history of the region, nor their
people, and don't care to know. Afghanistan, now back in the hands of the
drug lords, is not even spoken of. The horror and devastation there, has
a land poisoned with depleted uranium, with its infrastructure totally
destroyed. There aren't enough billions in the whole of the world to keep
up with this annihilating god on his mission to wipe terrorism from the
earth. Catching the fog in one's hands would be an easier feat than something
as obscure and ludicrous as this.
- And now another October and millions more will march--sing--drum--and
try to reason with costumed--leering clowns gone mad, rampaging down the
Earth's midway. Thousands that were alive this time last year are now dead.
Thousands more are limbless-blind-mindless--or forever genetically mutated,
by inhaled particles of radiated uranium....with whispered echoes yet to
be born, deformed in numerous ways. They will not be marching. It is up
to those of heart-conscience-and sanity to carry their voice to the world.
- Our Littlest Echo, sits pensive and wounded before us.
He speaks loudly this little boy lost, of the carnage-the barbaric savagery
of war. His little face needs to be taken to Washington and held before
the world. He is everybody's child--he is the loudest voice--the most articulate
of speeches--the most thoughtful of banners, of what we have become. The
men in black helmeted uniforms with their clubs and shields need to unmask
and see what the people cry peace for. This babe is the son of their loins--their
- They need to throw their helmets and clubs aside and
join the world in its cry for survival for that's what it has come to.
- And the Littlest Echo, and all whom he represents; be
they a U.S. Soldier's son--an Afghanistan child or an Iraqi youngster----what
have they to say if they could? "I am the lie that you believed. My
stunted arms represent a world grown callous and cold, unable to lift the
suffering-the helpless-the lonely--the dispossessed--the sick and the stranger
from a world gone mad in its selfish egotistical pride that sees only
to its own desires--lusts--and conquests. My stunted legs represent a world
unable, through deformity, to run to the aid of another, to take a stand,
to become involved locally-domestically or globally with others in bettering
their communities and nations. My eyes see beyond your petty jealousies,
your unforgiveness-one to another, your drunkenness, your abuses, your
bias, prejudice, hate, anger, greed, ego, and arrogant self righteousness.
You look upon me with pity--you need not. For I am just like you only inside
out. If for a brief moment in time the deformities of your own natures--your
spiritual void, your lewd lusts, your indifference and murder of the innocents;
through war or domination, could be made manifest, it is you who would
be the one to be pitied and I most whole. I am a world without song--without
laughter--without joyful dance. Make me whole, make us whole. Go and speak
where I cannot. You must persist, you are about Truth-Love-and Peace. You
are about the saving of the whole of the Earth, believe me you are. This
is the real mission, and you will win, for where there is great evil--love
abounds even more. Tell them, shout it, sing it, we will have Peace, we
will not be silenced."
- The Littlest Echo