by sherry mann
Mother: Something or someone that gives rise to or exercises protecting care over something else; origin or source.
Flag: a piece of cloth, varying in size, shape, color, and design, usually attached at one edge to a staff or cord, and used as the symbol of a nation, state, or organization.
When a mother sends her son (or daughter) into “service for her country” and she gets the proverbial knock on the door, she is soon given a memorial flag. Such may be an appropriate tribute for those who may still believe that we are fighting for freedom, but for anyone who understand its true motivations, a can of oil might be more fitting.
Ironically, while “our troops were fighting for our freedoms” over the previous eight years, a United States law (18 USC Sec. 700, January 2009) was passed which stated, “Whoever knowingly casts contempt upon any of the United States by publicly mutilating,defacing, defiling, burning, or trampling upon it shall be fined not more than $1,000 or imprisoned for not more than one year, or both.”
You want to claim this land as the land of the free? Then the symbol of your country can’t just be a flag; the symbol also has to be one of its citizens exercising his right to burn that flag in protest. Show me that. Defend that. Celebrate that in your classrooms. Then, you can stand up and sing about the “land of the free”.
The American President
by Cindy Sheehan
Cindy Sheehan’s Soapbox Blog
Cindy Sheehan’s Soapbox
first published in Islam Times
March 29, 2010
Disobedience is the true foundation of liberty. The obedient must be slaves.”
Henry David Thoreau
A week ago today, I was literally cooling my jets in a freezing cold DC jail for protesting the continuation of the illegal and immoral wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. For an offense (crossing a police line) that doesn’t even have any jail time associated with the penalty, if convicted, I stayed in jail for 50 hours. I was arrested with seven others and six of us had the similar fate of spending an unreasonable amount of time in jail for standing up for peace and justice.
After spending two nights in jail, we were taken to the court building where we spent another eight hours in a holding cell in leg shackles. When we were finally summoned to the traffic courtroom our wrists were shackled to chains wrapped around our waists.
During our unfortunate incarceration, two male members of the group had to go to the hospital for numbness in their hands and fingers because of the tightness of the handcuffs. After sleeping on cold concrete for 50 hours, Elaine Brower and I were cramping up in pain.
For minor infractions, we have to return to DC for a hearing on June 9th—since my charges don’t require jail time, and since I have already done 50 hours, I wonder what penalty will be imposed for my inevitable verdict of “guilty.”