Where is the Outrage?

Day Seven: As we approach the March 19th fifth anniversary of the Iraq War, we continue our series of thoughts, and words written between 2003 and 2008. With the reelection of George W. Bush and his Inauguration in January 2005, my dismay turned to disillusionment about politics and the possibility of change. The President in his inaugural address proclaimed that he had been given a mandate from the people, and that he was the ‘War President.’ People like me were called defeatist, pessimists, and worse… traitors. Meanwhile the attitude in America was “Don’t worry. Be happy.”

In the pursuit of pleasure and the almighty dollar, Americans turned a blind eye to the use of torture, one of the gravest violations of human rights and American ideals. They believed the intentional lie that Iraq had ties to Osama bin Laden and Al-Qaeda, and that the real reason we attacked Iraq was to free the Iraqis and bring them democracy. When the so-called “patriots” weren’t busy waving flags and being optimistic, their brains were paralyzed by fear. No one seemed to care about the issues of poverty, environmental degradation, global climate change, or the death and destruction that we perpetrated upon another sovereign country. One afternoon I sat down and let loose… the words just poured out… not pretty words, but words of passion. I could not believe the denial, and complacency that seemed to pervade the American culture… the acceptance of the unacceptable.

WHERE IS THE OUTRAGE?
Written one day in 2005

I alternate between outrage and numbness.
I sign petitions, join letter-writing campaigns,
make phone calls to Senators, and Congressmen,
send letters, and e-mails,
participate in quick votes and polls,
contribute,
protest,
read,
learn,
and cry.

The In Box for my e-mail is filled each
morning by news sources and appeals;
AlterNet, MoveOn.org, True Majority,
Code-Pink, Act for Change,
Environmental Defense, NRDC.
Send money, contact your Senator,
Alert your friends.
When will it stop?
Where will it end?

With gray in my hair, there are more
years behind me than ahead.
Shadows lie in wait, not formless
wings of death, but shades
of a soulless nation held in bondage,
linked together by cell phones
and text messaging,
in a lock-step march to WalMart,
buy, buy, buy…

surrendering freedom - yours and mine -
for security at any cost… “It’s okay,”
I hear them say, “Whatever it takes
to make us feel safe. Just don’t scare us
with talk of climate change,
or the need to change our lifestyle,
or the fact that Americans are hated
around the world.”

The talking heads tell me there is
an ‘obesity epidemic’ in the USA,
while I read that thousands of children world-wide
die from starvation
every minute of every day.
Where is the outrage?

The world reeks of death and loss.
Oceans are dying, icecaps melting,
unspeakable acts of genocide, and war.
Who will speak for the innocent,
the child, the salmon, the indigenous,
the coral reefs, the elderly,
the homeless…
when death silences my voice?

Will outrage die with me
and others like me?
Or will you carry on?
Can you scream in outrage,
resist, dissent, reject, say NO?
Or will you meekly bow
in obeisance to power
and greed
and false security;

imprisoned
behind concrete walls,
and armed border guards,
with a ‘virtual’ fence of sensors
to guard what once was the longest
undefended border in the world.
Who is the prisoner?

Before it is too late,
ask yourself this question,
“Do I want to be safe,
or do I want to be free?”

Where is your outrage?


... P. L. Morningstar
.