As the Russia’s war on Ukraine drags on, I feel like Mikey in the Life cereal commercial. I can’t eat what the war machine is trying to spoon-feed me.
For many, this is their first rodeo into Russophobia. I lived through the fear porn of Moscow, the Kremlin, and the KGB. Children wearing masks doesn’t compare to Bert, the Turtle who taught children to Duck and Cover. Some people honestly believed hiding under a desk would shield you from a nuclear blast.
While it’s obvious Vladimir Putin is brutal, and my heart weeps for Ukrainians, I hear all this virtue signaling about sacrifice and compassion. But no one asks, who will be sacrificed?
It’s heart-wrenching seeing bombed buildings, mothers crying, refugees fleeing. I feel bad, but this happens every day in East Baltimore, Philadelphia, and other cities. I have compassion, but it’s hard to get worked up about Ukraine when there are refugees here in America.
If you want war, talk to a disabled veteran about how it feels to get their legs blown off so some billionaire can make money. This generation had it better than anyone else, and you didn’t have body bags coming to your doorstep. Nobody asked you to enlist, pitch in, or sacrifice.
It amazes me how many learned nothing from Iraq or Afghanistan and are now ready to spill blood for a standup comedian and greedy war merchants that benefit from the rebuilding project.
Let’s pray we show some balls and tell the war brigade, not this time!
Jeffery Mcneil is an artist and vendor with Street Sense Media.
