\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1201364-America--2025
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Critique · Other · #1201364
America in 2025..or, maybe now? Satire.
The thunder rolls…isn’t that a song by Garth Brooks? Why am I thinking about Garth Brooks at a time like this? I mean really, I don’t even like Garth Brooks. I do like that song though, it actually sounds like thunder rolling…very apropriate. Thunder rolls. That’s exactly what it does, doesn’t it? Like an ominous blanket. Kind of like “the calm before the storm”. I wonder who thinks up these wonderfully creative phrases. I wish I could be so creative. Really. I mean, I wish that I could be a lot of things, one of them creative. And maybe not so damn quick-witted. And maybe a little less sentimental.
I have always been one to believe in horoscopes and the like; I check mine religiously every day. The stubborn bull, that’s me. The stubborn bull that is simply loud mouthed, that says nothing of any value.
Oh astrology, what is in the stars, to predict the future. Isn’t that what man ultimately wants, to know what is coming next? Ultimately, to cheat death? Ha, what a thought, to cheat death. The ultimate prize that is, or is it really a prize at all?
The American dream, what is that? To live well, but what is it to live well? Patriotism has been a trend lately, the waving of the flags and the singing of the national anthem. War is good for the economy; democracy must over come all enemies, even the undefined ones, such as terrorism and hate. It is the American dream to be able to define these terms, and, well damn well beat them. Beat them with an American flag why not? Perhaps I am being a little too dramatic. The thunder rolls, the cannons go. It is the same thing, is it not? Cannon fire and thunder? Hmm…no, I wouldn’t know because there has been nothing but an ignorant peace in America land for the last 40 or so years. No bloodshed, no fighting…not on these great lands. Is that about to change? Come with me, on a flight of fantasy, if you will.
The year is 2025. America is plunged into a war- America vs. the rest of the world. By this time, the entire eastern world has combined, and there are two countries in this world…the United States, and the Federation of Europe. Hmm, sounds a bit far-fetched, a bit like Star Wars, perhaps? And how did this Great War start? Over something as trivial as oil….even though solar power is in great abundance. I am a female fighter on the front lines…the women’s rights movement did away with the men only in the draft…we serve on the same lines as our male counterparts…we die the same useless deaths in the same blood. I hesitate to use the word “counterpart” because that implies equality…but then again, nobody asked me.
I am fighting in a desert- I don’t even know where it is, they didn’t tell us. And who am I fighting against, exactly? Well it appears to me that I am fighting well mannered people in long robes. I see lots of children here…they don’t have guns. They don’t have bombs. We are the ones with the guns, and they look at me…when I enter their villages. Their towns and cities. They look at me…with a great fear in their eyes. I see it, a fear of death. Of fire, and destruction…and hate and anger and blood and sadness. I want to touch them, and hug them and speak to them. But, they run. And nobody asked me.
Am I a fighter? I am quick to condemn the word and all those who use it. I am not a violent person…I hate violence and war. Yet, here I am, I carry a gun. I use it to shoot people… and I have. I have killed many and I have looked into their eyes as I have done it. Am I a cold-blooded murder? I suppose.
I am here for the American Dream, or what has become of it. Like the Crusades, this is an undefined enemy….kill those different from you. Sure, they say oil…perhaps the oil of the skin? The darkness of the enemy…or perhaps, the darkness of not knowing, and not being able to predict the future. I think that is it.
The world is at a war. I am told to hate. In order to kill, one must hate. So I hate. What do I hate? Why do I hate? I don’t know. I hold a gun, I shoot. I don’t know why. The thunder rolls in, like a cloud and a fog. We wander, into the open fire. We don’t know why and nobody asked us. And yet, we go. God bless America.


© Copyright 2007 Sylvanus (sylvanus at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1201364-America--2025