It's a source of wonder. See the homeless shelters, the grates, the benches and those cozy areas under bridges filling up with a new generation of veterans, people whose lives, relationships and minds have been fatally raped by war. They have to share these spaces, of course, with far too many victims of the last war -- that previous adventure in imperialism, that last idiotic attempt to shove "democracy" down somebody's throat.
What to do, what to do? How . . . why?
Big puzzle, right? Just sigh and call it the inevitable dues of modern life. Do what you can to try to absolve yourself of guilt.
Continue to pay CEOs salaries and benefits hundreds of times more than their employees make or thousands of times more than they are worth, and continue to give tax breaks to people who neither deserve nor need them.
Just go on along your merry sorry-ass American way . . . idly wondering why, among a host of other things, more can't be done for those poor, crazy-ass, suicidal, homeless veterans.
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