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Fighting Wars Won't Make You a Hero
A snappy uniform or even intense combat in far-off countries don't magically transform troops into heroes
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Ever since the events of 9/11, thereās been an almost religious veneration of U.S. service members as āOur American Heroesā (as a well-intentioned sign puts it at my local post office). That a snappy uniform or even intense combat in far-off countries donāt magically transform troops into heroes seems a simple point to make, but itās one worth making again and again, and not only to impressionable, military-worshipping teenagers.
Here, then, is what I mean by āheroā: someone who behaves selflessly, usually at considerable personal risk and sacrifice, to comfort or empower others and to make the world a better place. Heroes, of course, come in all sizes, shapes, ages, and colors, most of them looking nothing like John Wayne or John Rambo or GI Joe (or Jane).
āHero,ā sadly, is now used far too cavalierly... [In Full]
This article and these observations are going to piss some people off--but oh well. You will be angry with me, even though I am not the one who is ordering more war, paying for more war, torturing people and imprisoning them without due process, destroying the economy and the environment, blah, blah, blah.
I have developed an incredibly thick skin and if I rankle, it's because I think time is running out to halt the disastrous trajectory this planet (via the US Military Corporate Complex) is on.
I promise that I am not writing this because I am holding protests and no one is coming--these thoughts have been percolating in me for months now. (Note: Remember that old saying: "What if they gave a war and nobody came?" Well, here in DC I am living the opposite: "What if they gave an antiwar protest and nobody came?") [In Full]
BP Cleanup Workers Gone Wild... Strippers Booze, And Race Riots on Grand IsleI hear about the race riot at Daddy's Money almost as soon as I arrive on Grand Isle, Louisiana. My friend and I are going to the bar tonight to catch the "female oil wrestling" oil-spill cleanup workers have been packing in to see on Saturday nights. When we stop by the office of the island's biggest seafood distributor, he tells us that two days ago a bunch of black guys and a bunch of white guys got into a big fight at the bar. It spilled out all over the street and had to be broken up by a ton of cops.
According to the Census, 1,541 people live in this slow Southern resort town. An estimated 2.9 of them are black. That was before the spill. The seafood guy gestures in the direction of the floating barracks being built on barges in the bay to house the lower-skilled cleanup workers, and says that people think the barracks will keep those workersāwho are mostly blackāfrom "jumping off" onto dry land and causing trouble.
That night, dozens of men in race-segregated packs crowd around to watch strippers dance around and then tussle inside the bouncy inflatable ring set up inside Daddy's Money. Female oil wrestlers need, obviously, to be oiled. Plastic cups full of baby oil are being auctioned off, along with the right to rub their contents all over one of the thong-bikinied gals. "I hope there's no dispersant in that oil!" someone quips... [In Full]
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