Mar 10, 2024

Israel Is Sadistic State-Movement Committing Genocide — Time to Detach America from Annilation Machine

Pietà (Mother with dead Son), 1937-1939
In 1937, on the anniversary of her son
Peter’s death in WW I, the anti-fascist
artist Käthe Kollwitz wrote in her diary:
"The mother is seated, her dead son lying
on her lap between her knees.
-- Käthe Kollwitz, Diaries, 22 October 1937
Käthe Kollwitz Museum Kollwitz was
adored by the German people; even the
Nazis minimized their harassment.
Notes Käthe Kollwitz Museum:
"In 1993, a version of the Pietà
sculpture, executed by Harald Haake
four times its original size, was installed
on the initiative of Helmut Kohl,
the German Chancellor at that
time, at the Neue Wache in Berlin, which
is the central memorial site of the
Federal Republic of Germany for the victims
of war and dictatorship."
In the brilliant 2017 anti-war movie, War
Machine (David Michôd
), United States Army
General Stanley McChrystal, is played by Brad
Pitt, and memorably featured in a powerful
scene saluting the Pietà sculpture in Berlin.
Artist Käthe Kollwitz never recovered from
the death on her son in WW I.
See Brad Pitt below.

Joe Biden, Democrats Lead U.S. into Moral Oblivion

Like any sentient, post-World War II American, at an early age, I developed an ethic to oppose totalitarianism, fascism, anti-Semitism, creeping authoritarianism where it slithered its way onto our liberties.

Zionism and supporting Israel seemed natural.

No more. Israel is a sick, fiest pack slaughtering 10,000s, with sights on 100,000 more.

Here is the United States, a moral person must abandon the Democrats, all the Democrats.

How many more mothers must endure the gruesome deaths of their children?

From susan abulhawa in The Electronic Intifada:

It’s 8 pm in Gaza, Palestine right now, the end of my fourth day in Rafah and the first moment I’ve had to sit in a quiet place to reflect.

I’ve tried to take notes, photos, mental images, but this moment is too big for a notepad or my struggling memory. Nothing prepared me for what I would witness.

Before I made it across the Rafah-Egypt border, I read every bit of news coming out of Gaza or about Gaza. I did not look away from any video or image posted from the ground, no matter how gruesome, shocking or traumatizing.

I kept in touch with friends who reported on their situations in the north, middle and south of Gaza – each area suffering in different ways. I stayed current on the latest statistics, the latest political, military and economic maneuverings of Israel, the US and the rest of the world.

I thought I understood the situation on the ground. But I didn’t.

Nothing can truly prepare you for this dystopia. What reaches the rest of the world is a fraction of what I’ve seen so far, which is only a fraction of this horror’s totality.

Gaza is hell. It is an inferno teeming with innocents gasping for air.

But even the air here is scorched. Every breath scratches and sticks to the throat and lungs.

What was once vibrant, colorful, full of beauty, potential and hope against all odds, is draped in gray-colored misery and grime.

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