I was wrong about Osama bin Laden's execution. Incredibly, stupidly wrong. Some moral defect in my bitter mind led me astray. I've struggled with this for years. I nearly escaped once or twice, but my jackbooted soul kicked what decency I had down a concrete stairwell. Stomped its head. Kicked its face. Urinated on the body. It was a mess. Aspirin didn't help.
Then something happened. Right out of a Terminator movie. I forget which one. I think Part III. Anyway, after a night of heavy drinking a dim light beckoned. I stumbled toward it. As I got closer I realized it was an Exit sign. I'd passed out in the bar. Driving home, I saw people smiling. Old Glory waving. Children chasing bubbles blown by Detroit Lions cheerleaders. For the first time in memory, Americans felt safe to go outside. To see the sun. To breathe free air.
How can one scoff at such beauty?
As I thought about bin Laden receiving justice, face blown away, brains on the wall, a celestial presence consumed me. Total peace. I realized in that sacred moment that division is an illusion. That we are One. United. No one, not even the evilest motherfucker with a stupid name and bad teeth can tear us apart. For we are Chosen. Anointed. Forged in the spirit of greatness.
"American" no longer serves as national identification. Too soft, hesitant. Leaves us open for counterattack. Instead, call us the Death Suckers.
Mark Twain suggested that we replace the stars on the flag with the skull and crossbones. Twain was satirizing US "imperialism," yet if it wasn't for the Spanish-American War, we'd all be speaking Spanish-American today. So Twain got that wrong, but his flag idea still has potential. Let's leave the pirate symbol to Johnny Depp and Disney and create something really twisted. Something that will send our enemies to their knees, weeping for mercy, which of course we won't abide because we love death and death hates weeping.
How about Uncle Sam gnawing the severed head of a Muslim? Literal-minded, yes, but its deterrent power is inescapable. One look at that and young Muslims will think twice about arming themselves, much less committing violence. They'll ask, "Do I dare attack a white cannibal wearing a star-spangled top hat?" As they ponder that question, we'll turn them to mist with some choice drone strikes. The flag's stark image will give us room to kill more Muslims. It works on various levels.
But flags are static things. Retro appeals to nationalism. Maybe what's needed is an HD plasma flag, a field upon which we project whatever images appeal to us while making our enemies cringe like the cowards they are. Here we crank up the volume. Ideally it should be violent imagery, nuke blasts, napalm drops, executions, children crawling over charred corpses. Then we cut to gay bondage porn, NASCAR fights, drunken frat boys chanting, cable news hosts bellowing. Bring it to a mad boil.
Then the quiet kill. Images of crumbling cities and towns. Infrastructure collapsing. People struggling to survive. Teens abandoning hope. Crystal meth and gluttony. Ignorance, fear, despair. We make it clear that if we choose not to kill you, this is your alternate fate. Oh baby, the martyrs will rush to the slaughter. Our only problem will be body disposal. Then again, who gives a fuck. Scavengers must eat, too.
Pledge allegiance to the Death Suckers. Your sorry ass is ours.