I Thank God for Death

I thank God for death several times a day. Sometimes all day. More and more lately I talk to myself; not the running dialog inside my head, but out loud (aloud) so very loud in fact, that sometimes others overhear. I seem to be the only intelligent person I can talk to. I’m not Mr. Know-it-all by any means but I do have a different perspective of life.

In Việt Nam when we came under enemy attack, which was about once every third day; with rockets and mortars raining down and men dying randomly all around me, I would ask myself a very fundamental question: Am I going to die?

If you ask yourself the same question over and over more than a hundred times “Am I going to die?” The logical answer each and every time is a most emphatic “YES”.

“Am I going to die?””YES”; “Am I going to die?””YES”; “Am I going to die?””YES”.

I turned nineteen in Việt Nam – still a teenager really, but, even then I felt I’d aged ten years in one. But the knowledge of my experience; the carnal knowledge, ran deeper even than that.

As to my perspective of life from the age of nineteen onward:

I’ve known the end from the beginning.

Most human activity has nothing whatsoever to do with survival. From my point of view, practically everything humanity does looks altogether stupid. The earth is being overrun by billions of hysterical, talkative apes whose emotional vocalizations are without any real meaning.

The crises humanity faces are manifold and pressing: overpopulation; pollution causing extinction and disease; plagues and famines. We answer these with elaborate technologies only to create even worse problems. This is because we do, do, do before we think – if ever we think at all. Do we need nuclear power? Our ancestors didn’t. Does your dog really need a plastic squeak toy? Humanity needs to calm down and learn to sit (on their collective hands) and think before acting. Everywhere I look I see stupid stuff.

Let’s say you’ve done well for yourself and proudly built a fine house in the suburbs. The house is heated via a gas pipe buried under the ground. Likewise, the house is lighted and powered by electrical wires also hidden underground. Out of Sight; Out of Mind. If for whatever reason, those utilities are severed, all you have left is an elaborate and expensive barn – unfit for cattle.

Everywhere I look I see stupid stuff. Children passing for grown-ups.

I Thank God for Death

I’ve known the end from the beginning.

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About The Twentieth Man

Age 68
This entry was posted in Expository Writing, Personal History, PTSD, Veterans and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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