Sorry to hear of your loss. I too have lost a nephew in Iraq in 2003. All I
can say is that we nolonger live in a world where oceans seperate us from
the hatred of others.

Paul
----- Original Message -----
From: "George Goff" <THX0001@AOL.COM>
To: <vanagon@GERRY.VANAGON.COM>
Sent: Friday, October 22, 2004 5:49 AM
Subject: WHY?

> I am in a strange state of ambivalence swaying from sorrow to contempt.
In a
> few hours, I will be laying a flower on the casket of my sweet nephew,
Aaron
> Rusin, Lord have Mercy, Lord have Mercy, Lord have Mercy.  Some faceless
soul
> in a white gown (in my day, they wore pajamas) singled himself from a
crowd in
> Iraq and popped a cap up Aaron's 19-year-old ass.
>
> Aaron was a quiet, studious kid, but not sullen.  All he ever wanted was
to
> find a way to becoming an architect, so he was a sucker for the red, white
and
> blue lies fed to him by the recruiters promising him a stint with the army
> engineers and a path into college when it was done.  Scratch that career
track.
>
> I have to brace myself for all those hollow words of praise I will hear
> later.  All the bullshit spoken by those whose idea of sacrifice is how
much
> disproportinate suffering the disenfranchised are willing to bear.
>
> I guess this is turning into something political . . . how could it not?
All
> the details can be argued until the end of time, but the choice comes down
to
> choosing between a campaign based on fear or one based on hope.
>
> It's hard to believe that this was written 41 years ago:
>
> Master of War   by Bob Dylan
>
> Come you masters of war
> You that build all the guns
> You that build the death planes
> You that build the big bombs
> You that hide behind walls
> You that hide behind desks
> I just want you to know
> I can see through your masks
>
> You that never done nothin'
> But build to destroy
> You play with my world
> Like it's your little toy
> You put a gun in my hand
> And you hide from my eyes
> And you turn and run farther
> When the fast bullets fly
>
> Like Judas of old
> You lie and deceive
> A world war can be won
> You want me to believe
> But I see through your eyes
> And I see through your brain
> Like I see through the water
> That runs down my drain
>
> You fasten the triggers
> For the others to fire
> Then you set back and watch
> When the death count gets higher
> You hide in your mansion
> As young people's blood
> Flows out of their bodies
> And is buried in the mud
>
> You've thrown the worst fear
> That can ever be hurled
> Fear to bring children
> Into the world
> For threatening my baby
> Unborn and unnamed
> You ain't worth the blood
> That runs in your veins
>
> How much do I know
> To talk out of turn
> You might say that I'm young
> You might say I'm unlearned
> But there's one thing I know
> Though I'm younger than you
> Even Jesus would never
> Forgive what you do
>
> Let me ask you one question
> Is your money that good
> Will it buy you forgiveness
> Do you think that it could
> I think you will find
> When your death takes its toll
> All the money you made
> Will never buy back your soul
>
> And I hope that you die
> And your death'll come soon
> I will follow your casket
> In the pale afternoon
> And I'll watch while you're lowered
> Down to your deathbed
> And I'll stand o'er your grave
> 'Til I'm sure that you're dead
>
> Please think about where we are, how we got here and where we are headed.
>
> George