The pointlessness of “Who started what?”

“We’re making the world a better place!”

he says with the sincerest looking face.

“We’ve just gotta kill all those out there,

because standing up’s a thing they dare;

they try to stand ‘gainst me and you”

Our righteous rage just grew and grew

till the Mother Of All Bombs was our reply;

a behemoth of death come from the sky.

But that’s OK, God’s on our side,

and behind our own bullshit we can hide.

For “The end is nigh” I hear you say

“when we’ll blow those bastards clean away

and purge the land of the demon hoard

in the sanctimoniousness of our Lord.”

“We know we’re right so they must be wrong”;

The words to the age-old victors song.

“They bomb the innocent” I hear you say,

“look what they did just the other day.”

“Whereas we did nothing, it was our race;

how long should we hold to their disgrace?”

With Dresden now buried in our past

We can pretend it’s shadow’s no longer cast.

With a Middle East split up post world war two

so the oil companies could do what they do

and put puppet governments in command –

anything to pillage what’s under that sand.

It’s blood for oil and not one thing more;

and ‘twas US who started this pointless war.

Pandora was there but locked up tight

till we intervened in an oil grab fight.

We chose to believe the lies they told;

we opened the asylum all religions hold.

Now the ranting nutters are wild and free

And the end of peace we now can see.

But if you’re want someone you can blame

look in the mirror to find their name.

For the disenfranchised who are this hoard

were put there in the name of our own lord;

I don’t mean that dead bloke nailed to a cross,

it’s from the god called “oil” came all our loss.

That same god who destroys the human race;

We have his effigies all over the place.

And woe to those who deny our right

to burn his offerings day and night.

Their hearts will burn brightly in the flame

we will kindle in his holy name.

These bombing are nothing next to the plight

of those who would take away our light.

But we say the’re wrong because their war

is of terror; there’s battlefields no more.

That “mother” we’ve got means they can’t fight

out on a battlefield in full daylight.

Instead they’ll do battle from in the dark

and hide in plain sight to leave their mark.

So though I might rant and though I might rave

‘bout cowardly bastards hid deep in a cave

who won’t challenge me to a fisticuffs fight

but attack my house like a thief in the night,

I do accept blame for how things now are

as I enjoy my rich life and drive my big car.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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