Who Cares About Dirty Brown Genocide?

The scene was apocalyptic, like something out of a George Romero movie gone horribly wrong. Tiny bodies littered the shattered concrete, stained pitch black with soot and blood. Some of them were as still and stiff as calcified ventriloquist dummies, breathing nothing but smoke. Some of them rived in agony, mangled limbs throbbing and kicking, eyes rolled back in their battered little skulls as they screamed in horror to an indifferent god. The landscape that surrounds them is a bleak, smoldering, landfill overpopulated by a seemingly random collection of twisted metal and charred body parts; Arms, legs, heads, jagged fragments of bones and bubbling molten globs of shredded viscera, and every here and there a haunting sign of the casualties battered innocence; A doll with a heat warped plastic face, the busted half of a pink plastic lunchbox, and at the center of it all, a boy no older than 7, sitting upright, covered in his playmates blood, with an oversized UN-blue backpack still strapped to his bony shoulders, staring a thousand yards into an abyss that no one that young should ever see. They were children. They were all just children. And they were obliterated by an American bomb.

This was the latest chapter in the endless horror story called the Yemen Civil War. But it's not a civil war. A civil war requires two sides on the same playing field. Whats going on in Yemen ceased to be a war at all long ago. This is a slaughter, a genocide, a holocaust. It's latest victims were children on a school bus, coming home from a picnic, miles away from anything resembling a military installation. Over 40 dead, scores injured, many if not most of them under 10. This was a deliberate act of terrorism perpetrated by our "allie" Saudi Arabia with the full aid and support of these fine United States. We supplied the weapons. We fueled the planes. We provided the precise logistics that told our proxies exactly who they were murdering. We did everything but pull the goddamn trigger. And as usual nobody in this timezone or the next could be bothered to really give a shit.

The sickest thing about this grotesque display of collective imperial cruelty is how normal it's all become. With civilian casualties creeping near the six digit range and many more yet on the way, the only thing unusual about this slaughter is that the news bothered to cover it....    For all of five fucking minutes. The day it happened. Apparently American assisted genocide just isn't juicy enough for our self-sainted martyr press to cover. More than once. For longer than five goddamn minutes. But, shit man, being a journalist is hard. You have to make tough choices. Some stories take precedent over others. After all, what's more important, a flaming school bus full of dead children or the latest salacious details about the president who makes it happen's tawdry sex life, "My heart breaks for those kids, it really does, but this is Stormy Daniels we're talking about here! Sacrifices have to be made for the greater good! If those kids wanted more airtime they should have grown double-D's." Bernstein would be so proud.

Trump was right about one thing, these fucking gutless bastards are the enemy of the people, just not the ones he gives a fuck about. America's corporate mass media is the enemy of poor brown people who don't serve as convenient props to support their advertiser's neoliberal world order, even if those dirty brown folks were slaughtered by their best frenemies in the White House. The irrelevance of the suffering of the Yemeni people is the one thing that can bring all these heartless, ego-starved, star fuckers together like a satanic Christmas miracle. And it just gets worse and worse every single day.

As the Saudis zero in on the port city of Hodeidah, the last port held by the rag-tag Houthi rebels, literally millions of lives hang in the balance. Soon the American-backed Saudi blockade that has pushed the poorest nation in the Arab world to the brink of mass starvation will be complete. The noose around countless tiny throats will be tightened and who will even bother to realize they're gone? How many bodies will it take for more than five goddamn minutes from those morally vacant jackals of the foul estate. I've got the terrible creeping feeling that we'll soon find out the hard way. It won't be the first time. They still haven't noticed the 300,000 East Timorese that vanished after Gerald Ford signed off on the liquidation of that tiny impoverished nation in 1975. Trump has already announced his intention to just ignore the provisions of his deficit shriveling National Defense Authorization Act for 2019 that request that he simply assess the gravity of the slaughter he makes possible everyday. His enemies in the "free" press responded with a shrug. They can all fucking go to hell.

I've got nothing cute to add this week, dearest motherfuckers. Call me sentimental but dead children make me sad. I pray I'm not the only one. I pray America opens it's ears to the screams their tax dollars produce. And I pray for what's left of the Houthis and I don't care who fucking hears me do it. May their aim be true or at least better than the ghosts of East Timor. And may their bullets pierce the black hearts of the beasts who target their children. I throw them an unapologetic fist of solidarity just as I would Fretilin, the Sandinista, or the Vietcong. This bitter faggot stands with you against my own country and the "free" press that covers their tracks. Lock and load.



Peace, Love, Fear, & Loathing- CH



Soundtrack; Songs that influenced this post

* A Pillar Of Salt by the Thermals
* Idylls Of the King by the Mountain Goats
* Fight For Your Life by the Casualties
* Decorated Lawns by Julien Baker
* No Fun by the Stooges
* War by Sinead O'Connor
* What About Us by Ministry
* War Pigs by Black Sabbath