Thursday 26 May 2016

Where Is Our Righteous Anger?

      Why do we continually put up with our lords and masters' never ending desire to spend our tax money on the destruction of other people's countries. We are in an endless slaughter of innocents, authorised by our so called, democratic government. Cameron is now showing withdrawal symptoms as his sadistic Libyan adventure slides in to history. Come July we will see his excitement rate jump, as he and his imperialist cronies start episode two of his Libyan massacre.
       What most people don't recognise is the extent of the brutal assault on the people of Libya by that minder of Western corporatism, NATO. If we look at the bombardment of Syria, since 2014, not counting Russian air strikes, there has been just under 4,000 allied air strikes. In Iraq, air strikes against Daesh, have numbered approximately 8,500. If we combine these air strikes we have approximately 12,500.  The population of Syria is roughly 22.8 million and the population of Iraq 33.4 million and they have received an appalling 12,500 air strikes. Now let's look at Libya, with a small population of less than 7 million this unfortunate country felt the wrath of Cameron via NATO with an astonishing 26.500. A part from the human misery caused, it should be remembered that each missile fired cost between £500,000 and £1 million. How many hospitals went bang, and how many schools went boom, in  the batting of an eye?
 Syria.
       Not content with that, Cameron and his imperialist cohorts are planning another assault on the people of Libya. Why, well having destroyed the infrastructure of that country and turned it into a quagmire of fighting factions, it is difficult to control the oil efficiently. So they need a subservient, compliant government to run the place. Since there isn't one, they have shipped in a bunch of pro-Western/Saudi puppets, who are holed up in some western protected bunker, and this is what they call the legitimate government of Libya. So now we have to go in and blow the shit out of the rest of the country and build this Western chosen clique an army, so that we can do deals with them to more rapidly extract Libya's gas and oil. 
Iraq.
      They are planning to pour more of our tax money into the destruction of an already devastated country, with the result of countless more deaths of innocent people, we will be supporting a group of people whom the people of Libya have no part in choosing, all to help the Western corporate greed machine.
     We should be angry, we should be very angry, we are being made complicit in the murder of innocents, to feed the greed of Western imperialism. No where in this Dante's Inferno of greed is there a thought for the welfare of the people of Libya. The teachers, plumbers, drivers, grandparents and grandchildren of Libya will be the victims of this bloody greed fest.
Libya.
      Where is our righteous anger, where are the crowds on the streets, this slaughter will continue unless we the people stop it, the powers that be are all in favour of this continuing resource grab, by violence or any other means, and to hell with the people.

Time To Rage.

Time to rage, like a river running wild
Time to rise, to save the child,
Time to rage, like a mountain flood,
Time to rise, to stop the blood,
Time to rage, with righteous anger,
Time to rise, to point the finger.

Famine, misery, sickness,death
Stretch across these pleasant lands;
War, greed, hunger, blood
Sour the lovely desert sands,
Charity, chat, quiet dismay
Is not enough,
Prayers, thoughts,what PM's say
Is useless stuff.

Time to rage, like a river running wild,
Time to rise, to save the child,
Time to rage, like a mountain flood,
Time to rise, to stop the blood,
Time to rage, with righteous anger,
Time to rise, to point the finger.
Visit ann arky's home at www.radicalglasgow.me.uk

1 comment:

  1. "Singins" – Manuel Machado

    Everything passes and everything stays,
    but our fate is to pass,
    to pass making paths,
    paths on the sea.

    I never looked for glory,
    nor to leave in the memory
    of mankind my song;
    I love subtle worlds,
    lightnessful and gentile,
    like soap bubbles.

    I like to watch them painting
    of sun and garnet, to fly
    under the blue sky, tremble
    suddenly and break...

    I never looked for glory.

    Walker, your treads are
    the path and nothing more;
    walker, there is no path,
    the path is made when walking.

    When walking the path is made
    and when looking back
    you see the path that never
    has to be walked again.

    Walker, there is no path,
    but trails in the sea...

    Some time ago in that place
    where woods dress with hawthorns today
    the voice of a poet was heard, screaming
    'Walker, there is no path,
    the path is made when walking...'

    Stroke by stroke, verse by verse...

    The poet died far away from home.
    He's covered by dust of a neighboring
    country.
    When going away, they saw him crying.
    'Walker, there is no path,
    the path is made when walking...'

    Stroke by stroke, verse by verse...

    When the goldfinch cannot sing.
    When the poet is a pilgrim,
    when praying has no use.
    'Walker, there is no path,
    the path is made when walking...'

    Stroke by stroke, verse by verse.

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