Flagwavers - a fable

The following story could be true. Some of the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

I.

The United States of America was entering its twentieth year under the dictatorship of George W. Bush. After successfully stealing the 2000 and 2004 elections, with little outcry from the people or the corporate-controlled media, the Bush dictatorship had eliminated elections altogether, realizing that rigged voting machines, corrupt election officials and an equally corrupt United States Supreme Court no longer needed to conceal the dictatorship beneath a facade of democracy.

The eleventh war in the “war against terrorism” was now underway. Intelligence information had allegedly revealed that the European nation of Belgium possessed “weapons of mass destruction,” and were prepared to use them. As proof the Bush dictatorship offered satellite images of vehicles delivering suspicious materials to an isolated warehouse.

As it turned out, these images were simply videos of Belgian children playing with remote-control operated toy trucks in an empty parking lot near an abandoned warehouse. So, just as the past ten wars had evolved before it, the Belgium conflict suddenly became a mission to bring “freedom, democracy and human rights to the Belgian people,” regardless of how many Belgian people had to be imprisoned, tortured or killed in the process.

Every weekend, in cities and towns throughout America, throngs of weekend warriors contemptuously drove past the plethora of homeless, disabled veterans living on city sidewalks as they made their way to “support the troops” rallies. But this time the corporate-controlled media, salivating once again over the ratings and profits the war against Belgium was reaping, no longer had to ignore anti-war protesters. PATRIOT ACT XIII had given the Bush dictatorship the power to declare any American who disagreed with its policies an “enemy combatant.” So all dissenters were now silently languishing in secret detention centers throughout the world, leaving the nation safely in the hands of the politicians, pundits, journalists, and celebrities who busily enhanced their careers hawking wars they had no intention of fighting in themselves.

II.

At the local bar in Anywheresville, USA, the latest recording from country singer Moby Teeth rattled on the jukebox in one corner of the room. In the other corner, the plasma television flashed a divided screen—one half showing a buxom blonde newscaster sycophantically grinning, the other showing a reporter in full combat attire standing in front of a smoldering pile of rubble.

“So what can you tell us about why the American army bombed the building behind you, Jerry?” the blonde asked.

“Well Ann, it was believed that this building was a hideout for Belgian insurgents. It turns out it was a pre-school for children ages two-to-four. Preliminary reports indicate that anywhere from two to four hundred children were killed in this bombing.”

“Well, as they say in military terms, that’s a lot of collateral damage. Does the army have any explanation for its mistake?”

“Well Ann, the army is not calling it a mistake. In fact Secretary of Offense Donald Rumsfeld has hailed the bombing of the pre-school as a major blow against terrorism. According to Rumsfeld, killing these children before they grow up dramatically reduces the chances of them becoming terrorists.”

“It’s like Dictator Bush says: ‘It’s better to strike preemptively than wait until it’s too late.’ Thanks for the report Jerry. Now we turn to celebrity news . . .”

III.

At an unsteady table about three feet from the jukebox, three men, Dick, Karl and George, howled along with the chorus of Moby Teeth’s song.

“Kicking a**” in Belgium!” Dick bellowed.

“Hell,” Karl laughed, “Moby’s been getting rich singing about kicking a** in every war since Iraq, and I don’t recall him ever fighting in one.”

“Nor any of us for that matter,” George said.

“Well,” Dick replied, “it’s just like what Vice-Dictator Cheney said after getting all them deferments to avoid serving in Vietnam: I got ‘other priorities.’”

“Apparently his priorities don’t stop him from shooting animals,” George snickered. “Hell, he even shoots them in canned hunts, where they don’t have a chance to run.”

“That’s different,” Dick responded. “Animals can’t shoot back. The day they do, Cheney’s hunting days will probably be over.” Then he raised his glass. “A toast to war!”

“To war!” Karl chanted.

“And to us not fighting in it.”

“By the way,” Karl said, “did you guys see the contest that Lucid Channel and Weasel News Network is having? They’re offering one hundred thousand dollars to ‘The Most Patriotic Town in America.’ If we nominate our town and win, the money will be paid directly to us. That’s over thirty-thousand dollars apiece!”

“One hundred thousand dollars!” George exclaimed. “What do we have to do to get it?”

“We just have to make sure our town appears patriotic to a panel of judges.”

“How do we do that?” George asked.