Excitement of Glee

by Harbinger

The square literally pulsed with the movement of excited Iraqis. Ravaged by weeks of bullets, bombs and dying children, Iraqi citizens gathered in anticipation to witness a huge statue of Saddam Hussein about to be pulled to the ground by the steel cable being snaked out of an American armored personnel carrier. Climbing onto the statue, an American soldier covered Saddam’s head with an American flag. The crowd cheered. Western cameramen jockeyed for position, finding the best angle for their TV cameras as the steel cable was laced around the statue and tightened. The statue began to bend under the relentless force of American power.

Muslim women enthusiastically waved tiny American flags from car windows. An Iraqi man proudly displayed a full-sized American flag, emblazoned with the image of Rocky in a boxing pose. An old man stood on the street, energetically beating a poster of Saddam with his shoe, shouting to passing cars and anyone who would listen.

Iraqi men screamed, "America! George Bush" into the lenses of TV cameras and danced little jigs of apparent glee. When the statue crashed to the ground, many in the crowd surged forward and jumped onto it, cheering and waving their arms on high, seemingly venting years of pent up anger at the steel image of a brutal dictator who had ruled them for so long. Several men chopped off the head of the statue and drug it away.

To viewers watching the scene on their TV sets, thousands of miles away, it looked as if the Iraqi people were joyfully celebrating their new found freedom and America's victory. But were they?

How is it that eleven years of crippling sanctions, a devastating war in 1991, American support for a vicious Israeli regime that is killing Iraq's Palestinian brothers in droves, and the death of countless Iraqis in their own country's war could suddenly melt away into such an overwhelming display of Iraqi happiness and love for their American captors?

As Saddam’s statue was being pulled down, one with discerning eyes could see delta-T antennas mounted on the psychotronic warfare units that were deployed around the square. The American soldiers and embedded press wore their battle helmets of course, special units lined with aluminum shields and helmholtz coils, keeping the powerful psychotronic pulses from affecting them.

The hapless Iraqi’s, fallen under the influence of the invisible rays, never knew what hit them. Their expressions of relief and joy seemed to be perfectly spontaneous and natural before the TV cameras. Yet only kilometers away other Iraqis fought a pitched battle with American soldiers.

After the photo-op, the frequencies of the psychotronic units were changed to those that incite selfish rage. The Iraqi mob obligingly broke up, rushing away to engage in open looting, ransacking anything within reach.

Who among us will ask where the little American flags being waved by the Muslim women came from? Women with hands still covered in the blood of their dead children. Who will wonder how a full-sized American flag, embroidered with the image of Sylvester Stallone wearing boxing gloves, came to be in that square? Who will ask how a people, still being bombed and murdered by the coalition of the willing, could suddenly be so enthusiastic about an enemy they have hated for decades, one that now holds their country and its future in an iron grip?

Who will ask?

Those images captured by the embedded press, shills with video cameras, are the future of America. Look at the fleeting images closely and remember them. When the psychotronic weapons are turned onto the Americans, will they too scream, "America! George Bush," and dance a little jig of pure glee?

(Publication of this article is unconditionally granted - if showing the author as Harbinger.)