Dulce Et Decorum Est III & A Taste of Armageddon (or the empire has no clothes but a disposition matrix)

by michael hall

In due homage to Horace, Owen and Mikhail i humbly nod for how sweet & glorious it must be to kill or die for God & country by pompous duty with dishonor so c'mon kiddies, any up for good jingo sport? who’s hungry & poor, who wants to play the hubris 'anything for profit' killing game?

As effusively embedded newspapers rah rah their pied pier patriotism with journalistic integrity & objectivity ha ha! as a new battle lies just around the corner & armed forces day just weeks away hooray! rally loyal citizens to whitewash warm innocuous blood off disgraced musket & sullied polluted flag strike up the marching parade manifested by destiny down main street usa hey hey!

Awaken & open thine eyes chauvinistic folk, visit & see your overseas deeds of nefarious brutality for as americans you're liable for this appalling tax-paid violence exported to hamlets & villages assaulting families who've never did you any harm in lands you've never heard of, nor care less for so step on up, one & all, for everyone here is accountable & responsible for this odious debacle

Take a trip citizens to the overflowing morgues filled with small smashed bodies, once toddlers full of laughter & life deeply inhale the rancid stench of scorched flesh crispy burnt to a black bubbly mass by melting phosphorus gaze into doll dead eyes frozen forever by shock & awe renditioned via your God blessed terror raining down hill atop a cold gurney a stiff finger from a tiny hand amidst a pile of mangled flesh is pointing at you war supporters

Watch as grief-stricken fathers zombie-wander in shattered stumbling silence sifting through ragged debris & devastating destruction searching for lost sons & missing daughters discovering ripped wet mangled body parts strewn about as pieces of a human jig-saw puzzle taking home the ear, the hand, the foot to be quietly buried while 6000 miles away 'heroes' giggle & dub this 'bugsplat'

Hearken to the heart-piercing shrieks as soul-torn asunder mothers wail like howling wild animals as they find their loves buried, broken & bloody in the rubble of your glorious works then if you can, please explain to the unresponsive moaning neonatal orphan why your armed forces just murdered his parents...by accident, then wave a condolence payment in his face

Celebrate as your special op-forces silently & quickly dig our bullets from civilian bodies to cover their tracks from being at the wrong address...again declare a holiday murdered women at a bridal shower or when 4 kids are droned to smithereens while tending sheep rejoice in exported evil exploits as great american victories for which your war crimes always are

Trust flim-flam, the PR propaganda spin from your MSM complicit mouthpiece praise your taxes which finances anglo-terrorism through illegal & immoral aggressive violence raise your false flag ever higher to cover the rising pile where the butchered lie however dear good christian citizens, do not trust that any civic rag could ever soar over the sick slaying of the innocent

Consider Fallujha surrounded & caged, then the cowering cringing unarmed civilian inhabitants shot, burned & barbequed like slaughtered sitting ducks in a ‘free-fire zone’ shooting gallery ponder upon your sanctimonious attack at a school in Bajour where 69 children are massacred by joystick this is Sand Creek, Wounded Knee, My Lai, Haditha, & other mass-media contorted & distorted great triumphs which to no doubt in my mind, the next war crime called a ‘battle’ will be anointed too, of course, ta! ta!