Release the Photos, You Arrogant Bastards!

I see dead people.

Six years old and Haley Joel Osment was already dealing with his ability to see and communicate with the dead in a utilitarian way. M. Night Shyamalamadingdong, who interestingly hasn’t produced anything worth a $11 movie ticket since, depicted a child’s version of death, along with the associated terrors and benefits.  Osment went on to stardom and the character found a heroic end to his unfortunate acumen.  Which brings me to today’s issue.

Our government – remember us, We the People, the ones you represent, are no different than, and are presumably there to respond to – claims We the People should not be allowed to view the photos of recently disposed-of terrorist Usama Bin Laden.  The rationale is vague, something about not celebrating victory – so much for July 4th – not wanting to incite retribution – right, because when things go awry for them, terrorists are very much the accepting type – or not wanting to “trot this out for a trophy” – because the tens of thousands of people chanting USA in the post-announcement hours of the Presidential speech, which declared UBL is dead, is precisely the type of low key celebrations unlikely to inspire the citizenry.

Fuck you, you arrogant bastards – Congressmen and Senators and President – who feel you are not one of us.  Go to hell you representatives who took our votes and then rode to D.C. to ascend your high horses so you could make presumptive decisions about the populous’ ignorance.  How dare you feel so empowered as to decide what We the People can and cannot see.  How dare you take our tax money and send our children to war and eliminate the personal map of America’s greatest enemy and not give us a patriotic moment to be thankful for being Americans.

Every night I suffer the indignity of the evening news, watching stories about kidnapped children, women gang-raped, and innocents murdered.  Every night I go to bed with a prayer for my Uncles who died fighting for this country in foreign wars.  Every morning I rise with a hand to the heart and a pledge in my voice.

I see dead people.

If a six year old can handle it, I’m damn sure I canAnd if I can’t, instead of you telling me, I’ll tell you!

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By ccxander

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