Category Archives: Veterans

The Death Cult Amuses Itself to Death

There are those who amuse themselves to death, these are the ones who enjoy death and destruction.  That is their passion.  There are those who defend the indefensible as profit is all that matters.  Life is a bottom line and the impact on society is a side issue.

I am going to sit with this as I listen to Roger Waters. I feel inspired to write a poem.

First to Roger Waters … Perfect Sense to set the scene behind the insanity we call normal.

My poem inspired by my awakening to power that is not at peace with itself. It’s actions make perfect sense in the light of understanding where we are at.

You may want to ponder the Fool… what is the outcome of the Fool… awakening us to what?

 

DEATH CULT PEDALLED AS PEACE-MEAL


Reframing death as depopulation sustains,

Dehumanising as superiority speaks,

Sending innocent soldiers into wars

Recurring nightmares as trauma haunts war crimes pedalled as patriotism,

Post traumatic stress becomes a nightly bed fellow of hot sweats then cold,

Seeing a hundred yard stare in the eyes of the enemy now blank and empty,

A corpse shell shocked
not a human being
honoured.

 

War is the war against God?

As only those who believe in enemies see a Godless world,

A world of hell and brimstone of firey hatred finds devils in challenges to power,

To remember that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

 

Healthy bodies of perfection from a mother’s undying love,

Returned as memories burning embers of never ending pain of loss,

For they were placed in harms way on a whim and the sin of oiling the wheels of industry
without conscience as they are disposable like built in obscelecense,

Weapons render the human mangled, strangled, disfigured, deformed, disabled and obliterated in wars with reason and frontiers without tears,

For young soldiers are ordered to clean the area,

Pick up the limbs, fingers, feet, burned flesh as they gasp overwhelmed by the repugnant putrid smell at the Gates of hell,

Is this the planned outcome?


For who profits from mayhem, carnage, terrorism and total despair?

Who will repair a lost family, a fallen friend or a desolate city?

As they walked stunned unable to feel humanity as it has been blasted to hell and back,

Can you see man’s inhumanity to man?

Brother to brother?

Father to son?

Generations that will never come,

home.

 

What of the puppet masters?

These are the ones that orchestrate the wars as games,

They send other to do their cruel bidding as they strategically play the game,

And ask

… And another?

They stand righteous with contempt of criticism as if war is always a Just War when one is on the right side of God,

Keep the band playing, keep the PR spinning webs of subterfuge, keep the same narrative repeating and the sheep will follow the wolf to slaughter,

As the dragon sends in flame throwers to burn the evidence without trace elements,

Brings in high powered weapons to avoid the Geneva Conventions,

For there are no wounded only living or dying!

 

Stunned or crying,

As families are obliterated over generations in civil society,

Soldiers in the great wars were never sent into combat with family members to spare mothers the pain of such a clamity and preventing the end of bloodlines,

Yet civilians do not have any special privileges or protections,

They are exposed, vulnerable and defenseless against violent extremism,

As the commander regards conscience as reflection and will not move one inch out of weakness,
He is doing his job!


In the strategic chaos to win markets not friends,

Innocent people traumatised are shaking, screaming, filled with anxious fear,

For there are those who gain pleasure from pain,

As ritual satanic abuse is normalised in the pursuit of power as a dark mass attack,

Raping for self gratification in a theatre of war that is not a show and tell,

As secret societies, cults are disciplined in hierarchies of rules, oaths and allegiances,

Children are rounded up in a fox hunt as objects or things are non humans,

In third world countries there are no birth certificates as so many are missing in action,

They are transported to the ONE ring,

Child trafficking, poppy cultivation, prostitution, arms are the industries of narcissism where thorns are horns as they surrender to violence as the final arbiter over life and death,

The crown of thorns sinks deep into the weeping widows destitution,

Forced to prostitute to feed their children as they are rejected and isolated as dirty and unkept.

 

The Masters use words as prose to cultivate loyal patriotism, liberating democracy and our freedoms as if personally called by a clarion call of winged angels,

They craft a vision of doing the bidding for the highest good,

For words are empty when devoid of true compassion,

And the lust for war leaves millions languishing in the fall out of the silent spring of depleted uranium,

As everything touched turns to stone,

For this is NOT the philosopher’s stone when stone is unmoved and unchanging,

It is the grave stone or wooden cross marking the spot where a beast has trampled the down trodden.

 

All is seen from a higher perspective,

And the circle will complete,

As what you do to a brother or sister returns to your feet,

For to live on your knees is to ask for forgiveness not utter ‘will I go to hell?’

For to purify is to acknowledge the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me God,

As the trinity is the three fold flame of love, compassion and truth,

The four horseman is HOPE – Honesty, Oneness, Peace and Enjoyment,

For you must atone for the sin of hatred, ignorance and ruthlessness as the victims are demanding Justice,

Beyond the grave the are inspiring change,

A New World of Infinite Grace,

Where the good, the holy and the beautiful take the reins of what was unruly,

For we are to bring this so called heaven to earth,

We are to seek for peace and reconciliation,

For the world is war weary and the climate has changed,

As we won’t stand by and allow the wanton trashing of human life and our planet,

We push forward and reclaim our lands as stewards,

Ownership was the fear of not enough and freedom is the gift of grace,

For it is time for the human race,

To surrender to love,

For this is the dove that is looking for somewhere to land,

For all return to the Centre peace,

On time..

 

Some songs from Roger Walters that bring the feeling back to those stone cold. You are called to come home to

…. sanity.

 

What does God want…?

Are you Amused to Death ….?

 

 

Homeless Vulnerable Veterans in San Diego

http://www.utsandiego.com/news/2013/feb/02/the-real-story-behind-our-homeless-vets/

 

The real story behind our homeless vets

Impact of war, tough job market, downward spiral of drug- and alcohol-abuse create a new generation on the streets

By Jeanette Steele12:57 p.m.Feb. 2, 2013
Former Marine Joshua Lopez (left) a veteran of the 1st battalion, 5th regiment, spends most of his time now smoking cigarettes with friends near MCRD and looking for work. Peggy Peattie • U-T photos
Former Marine Joshua Lopez (left) a veteran of the 1st battalion, 5th regiment, spends most of his time now smoking cigarettes with friends near MCRD and looking for work. Peggy Peattie • U-T photos

Between October and December, U-T San Diego military reporter Jen Steele and photographer Peggy Peattie spent dozens of hours on the streets of San Diego and at local aid agencies to meet young homeless veterans and hear their stories.

When night comes to the San Diego streets, some of the people sleeping on piled-up blankets once bedded down in fighting holes in Iraq or Afghanistan.

They are the leading edge of a new generation of homeless veterans, some of whom saw combat, came back changed and now have begun a downward spiral, not unlike veterans of earlier eras.

Experts say that young Iraq and Afghanistan-era veterans aren’t yet on the streets in large numbers. They are couch surfing with buddies. They are living with girlfriends or boyfriends. They are camping in their cars.

And San Diego aid agencies are seeing young faces at their doors.

At Veterans Village of San Diego, 39 Iraq or Afghanistan veterans are in a residential program for people battling drugs and alcohol and who need help to stay off the streets. The average age is 29.

The number of post-Sept. 11 veterans living at St. Vincent de Paul Village’s downtown program has jumped to 14, after hovering at two or three for several years.

The San Diego VA estimates that 1,753 veterans are homeless in this region. Officials don’t know how many of those are fresh from Iraq or Afghanistan service. If the local picture follows national trends, it would be about 8.8 percent, or 154 people.

These young fighters are challenged in a way that average people aren’t. Veterans say they forever carry the memories of war.

Post-traumatic stress disorder — the severe form of what’s sometimes called combat stress or the World War I term “shell shock” — is found in up to one in five recent combat veterans.

“I would tell you that whenever we deal with homelessness, several issues come up. Some of it has to do with depression, substance abuse. Someplace in here PTSD is operative,” said Veterans Affairs Secretary Eric Shinseki. “Some of this has to do with education and jobs and employment.”

One former Navy SEAL returned home to San Diego in 2007 and dove into a whiskey bottle to numb his PTSD. A few years later, he ended up living in his truck, with a criminal charge pending. His story of struggle, and rehabilitation, is part of this package.

Experts say that money usually means the difference between a roof overhead and life on the street for veterans who are vulnerable. High unemployment — at 12 percent for all post-Sept. 11 vets and 29 percent for young male veterans in 2011 — has taken a toll.

Joshua Lopez looked like any other 20-something standing around at the Old Town Transit Center, smoking and joking with his buddy in October.

Then, he flipped over his arm. And there was the tattoo. A Marine Corps eagle, globe and anchor, a purple heart in the center, taking up most of his left forearm.