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Three Years Of Happyfun War!
1,100 days of brutal violence and death, grinding you down to a numb
little nub. Thanks, Dubya!

By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist
Friday, March 24, 2006

You've endured three more birthdays. There have been three Academy Awards
ceremonies, three new Super Bowl champions, three full winters and three
summers, three complete cycles of jean styles and hemlines and pleat cuts
in the fashion world and there has been the rise and very quick fall of
roughly 146 horrible TV shows you never even saw.

Your skin has changed. Your teeth have worn down. Your bones have shifted
in their sockets. Your fingernails grew another 4 inches and you consumed
roughly 5,850 pounds of food and 600 pounds of meat and your hair grew
about a foot and a half.

There have been killer hurricanes and earthquakes and devastating
tsunamis, heat waves and cold fronts and dramatic shifts in the general
temperament of the Earth. Ice caps are melting more rapidly.
Billion-year-old stars finally gave up and blinked out. Young wine has
aged nicely. Babies born three years ago are now walking and eating with
utensils and uploading digital photos to their MySpace pages via their
cute little Nokia cell phones. Times, of course, have changed.

But through it all, through your life for the past 1,100 days like an
undercurrent of cold black blood, like an unshakable stench deep in your
nostrils, like a disturbing stain you simply cannot get off your shirt,
our country has been at war. Endless, raw, insidious, interminable.

Body bags filling up every single day. Death tolls rising. Hundreds of
billions of your tax dollars hurled into a gaping sewer of death and
destruction. Thousands of dead American kids, many more on the way.
Corruption and scandal and gross war profiteering, Halliburton and the
Carlyle Group and Lockheed Martin and the insidious dumbing down of
military recruitment standards (because we're running out of disposable
soldiers) to go along with Donald Rumsfeld's black-eyed sneer. Endless.

Do you remember the sweet little halcyon moment way back when, when
America was slightly more globally respected and Iraq seemed like a bad
but temporary dream and even the most hawkish Bush-gropin' war proponents
were saying, Hey America, don't you worry your confused fear-addled little
head, we'll be in Iraq for absolutely positively mark-my-words no more
than three months, maximum -- OK, maybe six. Remember when they said that
there was simply no way this war could run us more than about $10 bil and
maybe cost, at the very most, a couple of dozen U.S. casualties? Wasn't
that cute?

Do you remember the time of pretty brainwashed thoughts and insidiously
patriotic dreams? Before the darkness and the disgust, before 20,000
killed, maimed and disabled American soldiers, before we illegally
detained thousands and brutally tortured hundreds of Iraqis, before the
wiretapping and the Patriot Act and the disgusting lack of accountability
and before America's reputation in the Muslim world was turned to rancid
hummus?

And now, here we are. March 20 marked the three-year anniversary of the
start of our quick-'n'-cheap, three-month Iraq occupation/invasion. It is
a moment to reflect on what we have accomplished. We have accomplished
this: global contempt and colossal debt and a culture of death and
intolerance. How very proud we are. Thank you, George.

The threat of terrorism is higher than ever. Iraq's vicious fundamentalist
factions are on the verge of civil war. The Middle East is more volatile
because of our president's God-sucking warmongering than Saddam or Osama
could have ever wet-dreamed. There is a song by Bright Eyes called "We Are
Nowhere, and It's Now." Dead on.

Have you heard all this before? Of course you have. It has become our
national refrain. It is the subtext to all we do. It is printed on our
nation's bloodstained business card.

And now, a sort of bleak but bitterly livable numbness has settled in. We
are like a person with a ghostly fatal disease, limping around with a
hacking cough and blood in our eyeballs and an awkward forced smile,
pretending all's well and we'll make it through A-OK when deep down we
know something has been permanently torn and shredded and incapacitated
and there is no medicine for it except maybe wholesale sociopolitical
revolution.

Ah, but there is little value in hammering Bush for his gross incompetence
anymore. He now has the third lowest approval ratings of any president in
American history. The vast majority of Americans, from liberals to
heartland GOPers, are disgusted and fed up. From the grossly miscalculated
war to the grossly incompetent Katrina response to enough scandals and
misprisions to make Nixon look like Jimmy Carter, Bush's mark in our
history books is guaranteed to be nothing but a vulgar child's scrawl.
With a cross.

But it doesn't really matter. Bush is still immune, blind and dumb and
still refusing to admit a single mistake, and yet he cannot be punished or
impeached, if for no other reason than those who would do the impeaching
are of his own party and they are simply loath to admit how very severely
wrong they were about just about everything. Hey, that sort of thing is
what costs you elections.

The bad news is, even the most liberal estimate says we are locked in. We
cannot leave Iraq, not now, not in a few months, perhaps not for years and
years, not if we don't want the region to instantly devolve into a worse
hell pit than it already is. The quagmire is too deep, the mess too wide,
our supposed allegiances too shaky and the region sliding so quickly to
the precipice of civil war that to exit now would be disastrous beyond
even what Saddam could've accomplished on his worst day.

All we are left with is the larger question: Can we possibly learn
anything from this? Is it possible to mature and progress as a nation, as
a humanitarian force, as a result of our horrible mistakes, of our ability
to be so easily misled and beaten down by a cabal of sneering neocon
leaders who would just as soon shoot you as give you a handshake and a
cigar?

After all, Vietnam taught the Powers That Be, well, nothing at all, except
how to better crack down on dissent and manipulate the media and inject
huge gobs of unwarranted fear into the bloodstream of the populace so they
may launch their vicious and inhumane wars without so much damn hassle.

America has a notoriously short memory. What happened to all that hair you
cut? What about all that food you ate? Where are all the bodies we've
burned and blown up from Afghanistan to Baghdad? What sort of legacy is
this? Will you simply be reading this column again in exactly one year, at
the four-year marker of our ongoing happyfun death march, wondering where
the time went?

These might sound like rhetorical questions. Maybe that, after all, is the
problem.

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