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The Myth of Glorious War Exposed  Video of US Troops Murdering a Puppy !
By Bill Douglas (about the author)
Become a Fan -- Page 4 of 4 page(s)
The saddest movie I’ve ever seen, was a Japanese film, by the great filmmaker Akira Kurasawa. It was a story about war in feudal Japan, between two Japanese warlords. Kirasawa’s slow motion footage of battle is dreamlike, yet hauntingly real. However, it was the horse’s images that broke my heart.
The film’s slow motion battle, was so realistic, I felt transported to an actual battle and forgot these horses weren’t actually being harmed. The horses majestic innocence, being led into a maelstrom that they had no part in making seemed so distorted.
The fact, they were directed by the masters they trusted into a hell of unimaginable proportions seemed so perverted.
My son is a teenager now. He plays baseball, an exquisite sport I only learned to love through my son. As I watch his team out on the field, and begin to learn the other boy’s names and get a feeling for their personalities and quirks, I am awed by their majesty. These young bucks, strapping embodiments of life, stretching the physical limits God gave them, yet laughing with humor and grace, reminds me of wild horses gavanting on the open range. The impending potential of living life fully, sucking the marrow from existence on the meadow of limitless possibility, is an image these boys share with the majestic grace of horses.
I’m sobered by the realization that these boys are nearly old enough to fight in wars. The sad intensity of innocent horses being led to a slaughter they did not create, nor would have ever dreamed of in their innocent state of grace, is an image that haunts me. I could not imagine anywhere in the world I would fear so much to send these boys into the jaws of hell we call war. I pray to God we have learned our lesson.
Become a Fan -- Page 4 of 4 page(s)
The film’s slow motion battle, was so realistic, I felt transported to an actual battle and forgot these horses weren’t actually being harmed. The horses majestic innocence, being led into a maelstrom that they had no part in making seemed so distorted.
The fact, they were directed by the masters they trusted into a hell of unimaginable proportions seemed so perverted.
My son is a teenager now. He plays baseball, an exquisite sport I only learned to love through my son. As I watch his team out on the field, and begin to learn the other boy’s names and get a feeling for their personalities and quirks, I am awed by their majesty. These young bucks, strapping embodiments of life, stretching the physical limits God gave them, yet laughing with humor and grace, reminds me of wild horses gavanting on the open range. The impending potential of living life fully, sucking the marrow from existence on the meadow of limitless possibility, is an image these boys share with the majestic grace of horses.
I’m sobered by the realization that these boys are nearly old enough to fight in wars. The sad intensity of innocent horses being led to a slaughter they did not create, nor would have ever dreamed of in their innocent state of grace, is an image that haunts me. I could not imagine anywhere in the world I would fear so much to send these boys into the jaws of hell we call war. I pray to God we have learned our lesson.
By William E. Douglas, Jr., who is author of "The Amateur Parent -- A Book on Life, Death, War & Peace, and Everything Else in the Universe." Bill has been a guest columnist for the Kansas City Star, The Business Journal, and other media worldwide. (more...)
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No video
by Randje Mitchell on Friday, Mar 7, 2008 at 1:05:29 PM
Hold down your control button, when you play the video.
by Bill Douglas on Friday, Mar 7, 2008 at 1:31:48 PM