Skip to main content

Action - 9/11

A history has unfolded before our eye's that needs to be told. It is a history that entails a government that has apparently manipulated and twisted peoples fears to conduct a war on premises that later turned out to be an unqualified falsification of the facts – the truth about this war revolves around intensions of political maneuverings, greed, and grotesque perpetuations of an imperialistic "democracy."

The history which has unveiled itself under the current administration has proven itself as one in which corruption, ineptitude, deceit, hate, and freighting displays of political mongering, are common, even accepted, practices and precepts.

The history of our time has shown, over and over again, that our press and media's integrity has quickly eroded at the feet of corporate interests for profit, rife with political slants which contort and strangle any relation to reality. We are left hearing and watching programs which falsify facts (or completely avoid them) and indoctrinate a dogma of malice for everything from immigrants and homosexuals to whole ethnicities of peoples. In certain respects, we've been fed an ideology of genocide pertaining to political affiliations, sexual orientations, and religious beliefs.

Our history suffers from the slaughter of certain inalienable rights. In the violent ecstasy of war, we've witnessed and allowed an invasion of our privacy and what's more, the complete disregard for the due process of law and humanity.

This history breathing upon us now is one that embodies a culmination of environmental degradation which must be addressed by all peoples – the affluent not withstanding. Without taking strides in our private and public lives to wield positive contributions to environmental issues, we face grave consequences indeed.

We face a history to be soon told of a country that forcefully and selfishly imposed the 'rights' and 'wrongs' of how people and governments 'ought' to be conducted. Completely disregarding others rights and disrespecting other cultures and histories on a whim of assumptions, we bare witness to yet another atrocity of policy, costing civilian lives, billions of tax dollars, and untold years of bleak conflict to come.

Let it be known that this September 11th of 2007 will be a day of recognition. It will be a day that we mourn countrymen who died. It will be a day where we recognize the manipulation that our government spun with our countrymen's deaths. It will be a day where I protest against the ills of society – corruption, war, prejudice, and environmental degradation not the least among them. It will be a day that I reject the principals that our government has recently lain before us – opting for a more responsible, transparent, and peaceable governance.

If you even partially agree with some of the narratives I've suggested here – please take action. I don't care what you do – walk the streets with signs, share your thoughts with colleagues, write senators, avoid consumption, pray…show that you will not stand for a society or a government that consistently validates itself as destructive, deceitful, narrow-minded, and hateful.

Regards
Forest Kvasnikoff

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Inside

"There's a chaos inside that 'll not die down." Unsteady gale wind whips at hair rips souls from their bones leaving corpses of naked bodies curled and crying, wet and muddy Blackness, sound of breathing a scream that wallows, tares from the intestines spewing brown bile, lead heavy words "You'll not drown in a wake of your own making." Shoving gravel through eye sockets, dreading tomorrow caught in a web of mucus, rotting tobacco leaves, dust of glass sprinkled on tongues Empty bottles of fire sing heavy somber tunes, tumbling off the end of the earth, cutting the heads of goddesses bathing in the stars "Turmoil inside suffocates tomorrow and the next." "I know."

Voices

The doctor doesn't seem to understand. Says I'm off. Not quite right. Thin sheets are always talking to me. Voices of old French philosophers and Pompous Englishmen discussing some Colorless Male Burden. Killings and Sexings have been whispered Across candle light by thin wild haired Depressed Americans who rock menacingly Staring at the sky. Waiting for black birds Eyeballs and blood Baritone Black men tell me about blues Grassroot hallucinations speaking through Hazy browns and chaotic melodies "Jazz," she says, "Strange Fruit," She Says. Women talk of the domestic This fucking wallpaper That fucking husband Doctor just doesn't seem to understand. I refuse to enter a library until all these Voices wait their turn

Rusty Muffler

My roommate was nearly killed by a rusty muffler. My rusty muffler. It tumbled, and ricocheted off wet pavement right at her She laughed. Brought the broken pieces by hand, said I'd fix it someday Radio's never worked, orange lights illuminate buttons that have no use, they're pretty in the night reflections Broken knobs flick them on and off on and off on and off on and off Before my muffler's attempted murder a chorus of tired pistons, rubber belts, fluid cylinders, mechanical leavers and stuttering window wipers occupied the cabin hall Now there's only a rumbling to be heard beneath my feet, loudest in every gear rattling organs under thin layers of fat It chokes the need for talk We are taken by the roar from place to place, I flick the orange button lights on and off on and off on and off there's need to yell at times "stop it..." I follow the white lines with my eyes until home, the howling dies, our voices are left to fill the void We listen to ...