informant38
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...But of these sophisms and elenchs of merchandise I skill not...
Milton, Areopagitica

Except he had found the
standing sea-rock that even this last
Temptation breaks on; quieter than death but lovelier; peace
that quiets the desire even of praising it.

Jeffers, Meditation On Saviors


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3.9.03

"I get emails constantly reminding me of the tragedy of September 11 and telling me how the �Arabs� brought all of this upon themselves. Never mind it was originally blamed on Afghanistan (who, for your information, aren�t Arabs).
I am constantly reminded of the 3,000 Americans who died that day� and asked to put behind me the 8,000 worthless Iraqis we lost to missiles, tanks and guns.
People marvel that we�re not out in the streets, decking the monstrous, khaki tanks with roses and jasmine. They wonder why we don�t crown the hard, ugly helmets of the troops with wreaths of laurel. They question why we mourn our dead instead of gratefully offering them as sacrifices to the Gods of Democracy and Liberty. They wonder why we�re bitter.
But, I *haven�t* forgotten�
I remember February 13, 1991. I remember the missiles dropped on Al-Amriyah shelter- a civilian bomb shelter in a populated, residential area in Baghdad. Bombs so sophisticated, that the first one drilled through to the heart of the shelter and the second one exploded inside. The shelter was full of women and children- boys over the age of 15 weren�t allowed. I remember watching images of horrified people clinging to the fence circling the shelter, crying, screaming, begging to know what had happened to a daughter, a mother, a son, a family that had been seeking protection within the shelter�s walls.
I remember watching them drag out bodies so charred, you couldn�t tell they were human. I remember frantic people, running from corpse to corpse, trying to identify a loved-one� I remember seeing Iraqi aid workers, cleaning out the shelter, fainting with the unbearable scenes inside. I remember the whole area reeked with the smell of burnt flesh for weeks and weeks after.
I remember visiting the shelter, years later, to pay my respects to the 400+ people who died a horrible death during the small hours of the morning and seeing the ghostly outlines of humans plastered on the walls and ceilings.
I remember a family friend who lost his wife, his five-year-old daughter, his two-year-old son and his mind on February 13."
Baghdad Burning September 03 2003

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