America Built A Prison
And Put The World On Death Row
November 24, 2003
My life is like a cage of pain. Oh, I'm healthy enough for my
age, though I eat too much junk and don't exercise enough. I talk
to the most brilliant people, caring people, the ones most aghast
at the way the world has become a slick cistern of vicious lies,
where the truth is what powerful men say it is, and the old values
like honor and sacrifice are laughed at by teenage boys boogie
boarding in the surf and trying to figure out a way to live their
lives without working. In this still warm November sunshine, trudging
aimlessly along a pristine beach, amid shorebirds scurrying for
their next meal, I feel like I am on Death Row.
Of course I am embarrassed to say this, with my easy life and
available contentment all around me. I am shamed by men like Ernst
Zundel, who languishes in his tiny prison cell in Canada, abused
by callous guards and corrupt judges, who can speak of the noble
nature of mankind and how it is time to organize that urge and
rise up against the maniacs who enslave us with their jingoistic
doublespeak. How can he, who has so little, see so much freedom,
and how can I, who have so much, feel so imprisoned?
Sometimes I imagine I am living the life of the world, and try
my darnedest to see where it is going, where things are headed.
I haven't seen any dolphins this year, all year. Used to be, last
year and before, I'd see them everytime I looked out to sea. But
red tide's been in all summer. Shouldn't swim in it. Get a sore
throat. But usually it doesn't smell like it sometimes does, when
it makes you cough. The blight doesn't keep the tourists away.
They're happy enough to have escaped the snows of New Jersey.
But I miss my dolphins. It's not a good sign.
And I miss other things, too. Yes, of course that girl who lit
my life but insisted I was lying. That's probably a lump of coal
that will never leave my throat. But I miss my country, too, the
one I was taught to believe meant liberty and justice for all.
What a joke that was, when you finally get around to reading how
George Washington slaughtered Indians in Ohio or American soldiers
went around executing peasants in Vietnam without anybody ever
hearing about it until 40 years later.
Of course, of course, and about American soldiers murdering innocent
families in Iraq. Operation Iraqi Freedom, right? Freedom from
life, is what.
I miss my country, the one I was taught I had. I think soon too
I will miss my planet, given the condition of the fractured ionosphere,
the particulated air, the poisoned oceans, and the toxic soil.
(A friend put her hands in her garden in a well-heeled Sarasota
subdivision recently and came out with chemical burns that took
weeks to heel.) This is not to even mention the radioactivity
being spread around the planet. You know. It's in the bullets.
Oh yes, and also in the sperm of the soldiers who come home in
In the bright sunshine, dimmed somewhat by those curious chemtrails
in the sky, I feel like I am on Death Row. And it's more than
the doctrinaire existential dilemma of turning 59. Death from
old age would be a comfort to look forward to. It's just that
more and more I feel hope is being systematically removed from
the world. That a great extermination is about to take place.
And, through my inattention to things economic and my willingness
to speak about my dreams, I am in the lead phalanx on America's
inexorable death march toward Camp Ashcroft.
Others I talk to share my malaise. I hope they have more food
in their cupboards than I do. But they too will face this moment.
It was compelling to read the other day of the interview in Cigar
Aficionado magazine of retired Gen. Tommy Franks saying one more
terrorist attack in this country and all Constitutional guarantees
will be terminated. It is one of the great satisfactions of my
life that ten minutes after the so-called terrorist attacks of
9/11 I exclaimed, "This was an inside job!" It's nice
to have been proven right, even though a majority of Americans
have yet to catch up with the obvious evidence.
Looking forward to that first Red Alert, where nobody will be
allowed to leave their homes, and the military will come around,
checking out everybody, house by house, no doubt dragging a few
away kicking and screaming. Or, maybe they'll sedate you on the
It was somewhat reassuring today to read a letter from a Wyoming
newspaper stating that anybody who would work as hard to prevent
an investigation into a crime obviously had something to do with
the crime itself. This is a revelation that is slowly dawning
on all Americans: that all those people in New York and Washington
were murdered, not by Arab terrorists, but by rich businessman
and contemptuous bankers, who are all still profiting from the
business of mass death.
Yet the realization comes too slow, too late. Not one politician
dares even whisper the sentiment. OK, LaRouche.
I am reading increasing signs that the bottom is about to drop
out of the American dollar. They're talking bread lines in '04.
That will be a great campaign slogan for all those disgusting
Democrats who steadfastly refuse to discuss the real issues that
are destroying America and the world right before our eyes.
In the meantime, with freedom and the health of the planet precariously
hanging in the balance, the needless killing continues: not just
in Iraq and Afghanistan, in the Philippines and the Congo ...
you know the list - it's long. The needless killing also continues
here at home. Did you know that deaths from reactions to properly
taken medicines exceeds the totals for auto accidents and cancer?
Check out those new designer drug ads on TV and imagine how many
extra people they're killing. I love that story about how the
death rate goes down when doctors go on strike.
That's the place America has come to, and Americans deserve it,
too, because of their sheer, selfish inattention to what has been
happening, to what has been done in their names. And as with the
extermination of 60 million native Americans that has served as
the models for genocides by both Stalin and Sharon, Americans
don't really care about who gets killed as long as those sale
prices stay low.
It's a sunny day. I feel like I'm on Death Row. I feel like the
Earth is on Death Row, and America, George W. Bush in particular,
is the executioner.
It feels like the other shoe is about to fall. Will it be an environmental
catastrophe, the bursting of the Earth's atmospheric bubble by
America's satanic tinkering with the ionosphere, or the collective
poison of chloroflourocarbons (or was it fluorochlorocarbons?)
denuding our protection from the sun's potentially deadly rays?
Will it be from some designer disease like AIDS or SARS or Ebola
suddenly lurching out of control as the American government continues
to insist it is tinkering with these poxes only for defensive
Will it be chemtrails to finally choke the life out of us, or
that government-issued bronchitis that everybody seems to have
right now? Or will we all die of thirst when all the water supplies
are finally privatized and firmly controlled by multinational
corporations? Who will make the decision on who will drink and
who will not?
Perhaps some new electromagnetic pulse weapon to blow our brains
out through our ears in a single, massive moment?
Will we be blown to bits by a suitcase nuke planted by the Mossad
and blamed on al-Qaeda? Does everybody know yet that all these
explosions all over the world are being carried out by the CIA/Mossad
operation known as al-Qaeda? And speaking of that, have you heard
anything new out of the official government investigation into
9/11? No, I didn't think so.
Will we be beaten to death, or at least seriously injured like
they were on the streets of Miami last week for simply trying
to express their First Amendment rights (oops, sorry, we no longer
have Constitutional guaranteees) and protest the continuing destruction
of the American economy?
Will we be spirited away in the middle of the night for pointing
out that all those peasants murdered in Afghanistan and Iraq lost
their lives for reasons that were demonstrably untrue? Or that
the U.S. government prosecutes poor people for misdemeanors committed
trying to stay alive, but doesn't prosecute rich people who kill
millions and steal billions? That is truly American justice, and
maybe should be codified in the Patriot Act. Hell, maybe it already
Will it be the food that will get us, or the Diet Coke? Or will
it be our own children who will kill us, recently arrived back
from "police action" in Iraq and joining our local constabulary,
and eventually treating their own families just like they did
those hapless folks in Iraq?
Or will it be starvation, the worst way of all to go. Many already
face this problem; many more are sure to in the next few months
when prices rise like they did in Argentina and the money is suddenly
worth next to nothing.
The other shoe. It's about to drop. The giant leather sole of
a combat boot, about to press down on our very own faces. Be sure
and listen carefully when it does, when you see the last light
of day snuffed out by the giant jackboot of corporate America
smashing down on your face. You will hear "The Star Spangled
Banner" playing smartly in the background.
This is what the storied history of America has evolved into.
Liberty and justice are gone, and the phrase "under God"
is a meaningless campaign slogan to anesthetize churchgoers who
refuse to think or listen. America's penchant for building prisons
is now a worldwide operation. There is no one to stop it ... except
you. What chance do we have? We are all on Death Row.
Except for a certain, chosen few - those who are willing to lie,
cheat, steal and kill, and take the money for doing it - we are
all Palestinians now.
John Kaminski is the author of "America's Autopsy Report"
available at: http://JohnKaminski.com