My fel­low Amer­i­cans: We are fools

Chronicle (Zimbabwe) - - Feature/opinion - Opin­ion Mar­got Kid­der

THERE is some­thing I am go­ing to try and ex­plain here af­ter watch­ing the Demo­cratic National Con­ven­tion this evening that will in­vite the scorn of many of my friends. But the words are gag­ging my throat and my stom­ach is twisted and sick and I have to vomit this out.

The anti-amer­i­can­ism in me is about to ex­plode and land God knows where as my rage is well be­yond rea­son.

And I, by her­itage, half Amer­i­can in a way that makes me “more” Amer­i­can than al­most any­one else in this coun­try ex­cept for the true Amer­i­cans, t h e Ameri c an In­di­ans, am in ut­ter de­nial tonight that I am, as you are, Amer­i­can as well.

I am half Cana­dian, I was brought up there, with very dif­fer­ent val­ues than you Amer­i­cans hold, and tonight — af­ter the end­less spit ups and boasts and rants about the great­ness of Amer­i­can mil­i­tarism, and praise for Amer­i­can mil­i­tary strength, and boasts about wip­ing out ISIS, and Amer­ica be­ing the strong­est coun­try on earth, and an ut­terly inane story from a woman whose son died in Obama’s war, about how she got to cry in grat­i­tude on Obama’s shoul­der — tonight I feel deeply Cana­dian.

Ev­ery sub­tle les­son I was ever sub­lim­i­nally given about the bul­lies across the bor­der and their rude­ness and their lack of ed­u­ca­tion and their self­given right to bomb who­ever they wanted in the world for no rea­son other than that they wanted some­thing the peo­ple in the other coun­try had, and their greed, came ooz­ing to the sur­face of my psy­che.

I just got back from a rather fierce walk be­side the Yel­low­stone River here in Mon­tana, try­ing to let the moun­tains in the dis­tance re­con­nect me to some place of good­ness in my soul, but I couldn’t find it.

The scenery was as exquisite as ever, but it just couldn’t touch the rage in my heart.

The vi­sions of all the dead chil­dren in Syria that Hil­lary Clin­ton helped to kill; the chil­dren bombed to bits in Afghanistan and Pak­istan from Obama’s drones, the grisly chaos of Libya, the ut­ter waste­land of Iraq, the death and de­struc­tion ev­ery­where caused by Amer­i­can mil­i­tary in­ter­ven­tion.

The Ukraine, Hon­duras, El Sal­vador, Gu­atemala, Chile, you name it — your coun­try has bombed it or de­stroyed its civil­ian life in some ba­sic way.

When I heard all the Amer­i­cans cheer­ing for the mil­i­tary and the pro­nounce­ments of might com­ing from the speak­ers in the Wells Fargo Cen­tre, I loathed you.

I loathed ev­ery sin­gle one of you. I knew in my gut that what I was taught as a child was true, which is that YOU are the en­emy.

YOU are the coun­try to be feared. YOU are the coun­try to be dis­gusted by.

YOU are ig­no­rant. And your greed and self-sat­is­fac­tion and un­earned pride knows no bounds.

I am not an Amer­i­can tonight. I re­ject my Pu­ri­tan an­ces­tors who landed in this coun­try in 1648.

I re­ject the words cit­i­zen­ship cer­e­mony.

I re­ject ev­ery mo­ment of thrilling dis­cov­ery I ever had in this coun­try.

You peo­ple have no idea what it is like for peo­ple from other coun­tries to hear you boast and cheer for your guns and your bombs and your sol­diers and your mur­der­ous mil­i­tary lead­ers and your war crim­i­nals and your mur­der­ing and con­science­less Com­man­der in Chief.

All those soar­ing words are re­ceived by the rest of us, by us non-Amer­i­cans, by all the cells in our body, as ab­so­lutely re­pug­nant and ob­scene.

And there you all are tonight, glued to your TVs and your com­put­ers, your hearts swelled with pride be­cause you be­long to the strong­est coun­try on Earth, cheer­ing on your Mur­derer Pres­i­dent.

Ig­no­rant of the en­tire world’s re­pul­sion. You kill and you kill and you kill, and still you re­main proud. We are fools. – Coun­ter­punch The writer, Mar­got Kid­der is an ac­tress and ac­tivist in

Mon­tana. I voiced at my

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