Tis now the very witching time of night, (380)
When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out
Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood
And do such bitter business as the day
Would quake to look on.
- Hamlet, by William Shakespeare, from here.
The words of the eternal bard speak to us this evening, drawn forth upon the occassion of Saddam Hussein's death and calling forth the words of Hamlet in an all true grim reminder of a perverse Administration's mockery of true justice and the impact it has upon us, both individually and together as one nation. Indeed, taken out of context -- and not always a context far removed -- many a word or phrase may be lifted from this one play that aptly ascribe the deeds this President and his Administration have done in our names.
We removed a bad person from the helm of another nation. We are, in the words of the man and the minions who serve him, helping the people of the country he ruled. And yet, insomuch as the blood of our brave men and women has mixed with the blood of Iraqi citizens, the stark contrast and hypocrisy is there for all to see: we, the people, were lied into sending our troops into another country to kill the ruler and usurp control of that nation's resources and thousands of innocent lives -- on both sides -- were lost in the process.
If this is war, and war is hell, then there must be a special place indeed for the likes of George W. Bush and the members of his Administration and Congress who are responsible for this travesty of leadership and democracy to prevail in such a mission.
Our nation has been compromised through artifice and greed, our national integrity flushed from the body politic and infused instead with a miasma of hate and misdirection. Those who would continue this course, and set it above all else, would call such words "unAmerican" and "unPatriotic" in their fervor to be right (and righteous), but in the end they are merely shouting into a maelestrom of their own making.
Does our criticism of their actions undermine our nation, or prove us unfit to love our nation? No. Our criticism is of that which bore our nation into this world -- the love of freedom, of truth and integrity that gave birth and rise to a country dedicated to the proposition of free speech and human rights. We do not darken our hearts or blemish our souls by speaking out, but by remaining silent.
O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever (385)
The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom:
Let me be cruel, not unnatural:
I will speak daggers to her, but use none;
My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites;
How in my words soever she be shent, (390)
To give them seals never, my soul, consent!
These words do tell the tale, inasmuch as our Lady Liberty could stand for our Hamlet's mother -- we speak words that sting as slings and arrows, yet take care to do no harm. Our nation, that which birthed our hearts and souls, is ill: stricken with a sickness that clouds the mind and causes foul taste and odor to the dismay of all who still possess their faculties.
Our words act as a treatment, long overdue but still efficacious against the septic blood that flows within and outside our national body.
We shall not be silent.
Here, then, I shall offer some additional words of old -- a descriptor of our boy king, and the events that fast outpace his toxic touch. From Hamlet again, as available here:
How all occasions do inform against me, (35)
And spur my dull revenge!
We know this war was based on a lie. We've seen much to indicate that this war was intended long before the attacks that provided the first of many attempts at justification. The boy king, out of arrogance and fear, has struck out -- not solely in the name of vengeance, but perhaps also to silence he who could point a bloody finger back toward the family that enabled the very crimes for which he was hung: Saddam Hussein died, in part, for the sins of George's father. George H.W. Bush sold him weapons in a deal brokered by Donald Rumsfeld, and it is best (for the Bush family) that the world never hear what Saddam could say to that effect.
What is a man,
If his chief good and market of his time
Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,
Looking before and after, gave us not (40)
That capability and god-like reason
To fust in us unused.
Our king, our emperor, our Dear Leader Most High chooses not to cultivate a capacity for discourse within himself, and chooses destruction over diplomacy to enact his will upon the world.
We are not ourselves mindless beasts, but in that we have not yet achieved a position to avert and stay these irreversible actions we are but a captive audience to the play of madmen upon the world stage.
Now, whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
Of thinking too precisely on the event,
A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom (45)
And ever three parts coward, I do not know
Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;'
Sith I have cause and will and strength and means
To do't.
George W. Bush is not a man to change course or back down, no matter what facts rise up out of the depths to oppose him or illuminate a better way. We will soon have the capacity to forestall yet more catastrophe, if we have indeed clasped hold of the donkey's ear as it displaces the now-shackled elephant in the room.
For the sake of all that is true and honorable, let us make certain that we have caught the ears of our newfound majority, so that we may help steer toward a new shore under a bright new moon and shed the darkness of bleak betrayal for a path lit, once again, by the light of liberty and justice for all.
The witching hour is upon us, so perhaps it is all the more appropriate to end this dialogue thus:
So mote it be.