reflections

i hope everyone had a lovely weekend and spent memorial day as they chose. it's tough for me to 'celebrate' a holiday that is actually a holiday- as memorial day is set aside to honor the fallen. i don't know anyone like that- who fell in battle. my grandfather and three of my uncles fought in world war 2 but they have been gone for years. many of the folks i saw out and about yesterday probably are in the same boat i am- they don't know anyone directly who fell in battle or even fought a war. and for that- we are both lucky and unfortunate.

i had many interesting conversations yesterday with my fam- on whether one would chose knowledge over health or whether humans will pull themselves out of the darkness before the end of our planet comes. i do know that america's military industrial complex is its national nightmare and that by having so many people employed by it-- and the homeland security umbrella- we are setting ourselves up for a bad time. anyone can have knowledge and many can have health- but not many folks get to wisdom. wisdom to know that we need to change our way of life completely- and quickly- or our memorial days will continue to have fresh faces on the news.

perhaps, just once, we could celebrate life- instead of death. perhaps we could celebrate the glory of peace instead of the 'glory' of war. just a thought.

Bill Moyers on Memorial Day--Well worth a revisit

(from May 23, 2008)

BILL MOYERS: We honor our war dead this Memorial Day weekend. The greatest respect we could pay them would be to pledge no more wars for erroneous and misleading reasons; no more killing and wounding except for the defense of our country and our freedoms. We could also honor our dead by caring for the living, and do better at it than we are right now.

You may have followed the flurry of allegations concerning neglect, malpractice, and corner cutting at the Veterans Administration, especially for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD - or major depression, brought on by combat.

The Rand Corporation has released a study indicating that approximately 300,000 veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan suffer from PTSD - or major depression, that's one of every five soldiers who have served over there.

Last Friday's WASHINGTON POST reported an e-mail sent to staff at a VA hospital in Temple, Texas, by a psychologist who wrote: "given that we are having more and more compensation seeking veterans, I'd like to suggest that you refrain from giving a diagnosis of PTSD straight out."

Now, PTSD is not a diagnosis arrived at without careful, thorough examination. But to possibly misdiagnose such a volatile and harmful disorder for the sake of saving time or money is reprehensible.

The VA's director - James Peake - immediately said the psychologist's statement had been "repudiated at the highest level." There's plenty of other evidence to raise concern.

The rate of attempted or successful soldier suicides is so scary the head of the VA's mental health division wondered in a February e-mail how it should be spun. "Shhhh," he wrote. "Our suicide prevention coordinators are identifying about 1000 suicide attempts per month among the veterans we see in our medical facilities. Is this something we should carefully address ourselves in some sort of release before someone stumbles on it?"

REP. BOB FILNER: The hearing today is entitled "The Truth About Veteran Suicides."

BILL MOYERS: This apparent cover-up prompted the House Veterans Committee to raise the question of criminal negligence.

REP. BOB FILNER: If we do not admit, if we do not assume, if we do not know what the problem is, then the problem will continue and people die. If that's not criminal negligence I don't know what is.

BILL MOYERS: You can glimpse what's going on here by reading a front page story in last Sunday's HOUSTON CHRONICLE - published now on our site at pbs.org - about just one of the suicides. Bronze star recipient Nils Aron Andersson of the 82nd Airborne division an army recruiter, served two tours of duty in Iraq before he sat behind the wheel of his new pick-up - within 24 hours of his wedding - and fired a single round from a .22 caliber semi-automatic into his right temple. He was 25 years old.

Only about half of those service members diagnosed with PTSD or major depression have sought treatment and about half of those received what the Rand study describes as "minimally adequate treatment." Let me repeat that: "minimally adequate treatment," for what could be a matter of life or death.

Once upon a time kids asked their fathers, "What did you do in the war, daddy?" It's a question the next generation could ask all of us, who stood by as our government invaded Iraq to start a war whose purpose and rationale keep shifting and whose end is nowhere in sight, and who look now with nonchalance upon the unseen scars of those who are fighting it.

That's it for THE JOURNAL. We'll be back next week.

I'm Bill Moyers.

IN THE MOIST AIR

The thread is now barren, too soon,
waving over the arid ground,
it splits again
and the cotton bleeds with the fallen lists of yon
giant horned butterflies swoop in with their drums
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
and the pageant fills the air in every city and the sky groans
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
the solemn horde stand in their mumble-stumble anthem
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
handkerchiefs are made handy for eyes dropping bombs in the dust
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
the holy alliance with the soil spilled long ago grows heavier still
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
soulless worms made of oil inch along in macabre silence
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
well dressed children stoop in slack-jawed bewilderment
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
a little boy is told to stop giggling this instant
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
the young lad won’t see that his laughter is out of order
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
and he notices all the solemn faces and bleeding cottons
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
and the giant horned butterflies beating their drums
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
the loudly torn anthem now stumbles to its horrid close
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
and the butterflies lift their drums high into the moist air
thrum-thrum-thrum, thrum-a-tum-tum
the sky tumbles down with a tyrant’s ferocity
thrum! thrum! thrum! thrum-a-tum-tum!
the pageantry is quickly called on account of rain
thrum! thrum! thrum! thrum-a-tum-tum!
and the little boy cries as the giant horned butterflies come crashing
THRUM! THRUM! THRUM! THRUM! THRUM!



© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman

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