Nothing, and I mean nothing, can possibly mitigate the absolute disgust I hold for those who would have “us” return to Iraq, or for even a moment support another blathering Bush. By “us” they mean somebody else; not them. As in, “somebody else die for me, bleed for me, lose legs and arms for me and for my bloodthirsty craving, my sociopathetic inability to see that the world is One, the Universe is One.”
To paraphrase a wise man, whatever you do to the least of my friends, my brothers and sisters, ISIS or UFUS, of any religion, you do it to me.
Never thank me for my service again. Just take my place next time. Or, do what so many did after Vietnam, the vets especially, and simply offer a heartfelt, “Welcome Home.”