In 16 months of war, 1,000 brave Americans have given their lives so that filthy, vile creatures could travel to New York to spit, bleed, and deficate on Republicans. During that same period it is estimated by the Centers for Disease Control, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, and other organizations, that
1,250 college-age men and women between 18 and 24 years of age died by suicide.
53,000 Americans were killed in highway accidents.
About 700 of 250,000 service men and women would have died during the same period without the war. (Soldiering is a dangerous business.)
Not one act of radical Islamic terrorism has been successfully conducted on American soil.
Not one building in America has been destroyed by terrorists
Those 1,000 men and women who, we are told, are learning that Heaven’s streets are guarded by United States Marines, are heroes. I have no doubt that they are met personally by Lincoln, Washington, the Roosevelts (Franklin and Theodore–not Eleanore), and, of course, Reagan who may well have been their commander-in-chief when they first took the oath.
One thousand families cry out to themselves in silent anguish, showing the world only the image of their hero’s resolve and stoic determination to see the fight through.
One thousand lives cut short that others might live long.
One thousand reasons why Memorial Day should be about people, not furniture.
One thousand faces that will live, now, only in photographs and memories.
One thousand flags, neatly folded and ceremoniously delivered to the next of kin on behalf of a grateful nation.
One thousand more reasons to see this battle’s final victory, just in case freedom, justice, and peace weren’t enough.
Tonight, one thousand prayers of thanks. God bless them all.