upon first thoughts of the good lady’s disillusion and ultimate overcoming, I wrote this blurb:  

That’s a helova thing.   A helova door slammed closed.

It says a helova lot about slipping through the cracks.

…About slipping through the cracks…& the power of FUD.

If there is a spirit phantom afterlife, then no doubt there is

a deluge of pissed-off ghosts gathering ‘round this issue.  &

if there is a purgatory, there better be a heck of a lot of room

…because you know there’s an oily busload of wasters-of-

human-life-&-limb on the way in the next few decades…&

they’ll be well-dressed in the finest pomposities & sporting

lapel pins to allocate their obedience to something only they

now grasp the muddy meaning of, while those who are the

representatives of the good people, like Mrs. Sheehan

                                                                                                                              & her son, Casey, 

                                                                                            now know

                                                                                                          as bloody little as possible F%$K#%

about where the meaning of liberty & duty & honor has gone.

& if there is a Hell…& if Hell is voracious…& if time on Earth

is but a flick of a booger to eternity…well, then its buffet time

in Hell for you, Sirs & Madams, & you know who you are, you

are the entrée.   & if none of that exists…and we’re all just …mm

…dust in the wind ( for lack of a more colorful cliché), then maybe

all this depth of wrongness is the storm required to finally pull the

most benevolent and able women & men of humanity up by their

bootstraps & set them on a course to finally turn the tides…of a

new renaissance age of hope, justice, humanity & illumination.

…Or at least kick a lota ass & take a lota names!  Or is it really

just a perpetuated shitstorm that will require the horror of full-

circle, all the worst that can possibly happen to Western Civil-

ization & collateral bodies; dragging through a seemingly endless

quagmire all that is pretty fckn good about we the people… & …life,

liberty, the pursuit of happiness…& …ask not what your country can

do for you… & …It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great

task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take

increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full

measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead

shall not have died in vain -- that this nation,…under God, shall

have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people,

by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

¿?

…Then after reading all the way through Cindy Sheehan’s lament, closely, painfully, I respectfully conclude that nothing else can be said with more gravity than her letter of resignation.  If you can read her letter & go unscarred by it, you are devoid of humanity.  I say this without reservation, you are without humanity & you are no American.  We are failing as a people.  & I, personally, don’t have a clue as to what’s next to do.  This is so big a blockade to hope.   This is so wrong a wrongness…that has taken hold of our country.  I’m glad my dad is dead; he died still believing his shrapnel scars meant …liberty & justice for all.

  This letter by Mrs. Sheehan is the saddest, most effecting thing, I’ve read this month.