I can end the planet in a holocaust. in a holocaust. in a holocaust. in a holocaust. in a holocaust. in a holocaust.

It made me weep. It's easy for me to sit here and weep. I'm not directly experiencing the holocaust toward the cause of which I have been a party.

My father, beyond doubt, killed beautiful little children in Vietnam 30 years ago. And then he came home, and took steps to make sure that I got enough food to eat, and love and education to get by on, and perhaps even excel. My father helped repair aircraft, beyond doubt, which were used to saturate the vietnamese countryside with agent orange. And the Laotian countryside with unexploded ordance. And now those others–the ones who are now 33–my age–I mean the ones who didn't get killed–

I have brothers and sisters over there who having escaped being killed by my father, and our fathers, now live with excruciating deformities as a result of their mom's being exposed to agent orange during their gestation. Or else they are missing a leg, or an arm, or have other defomrities because they found a piece of unexploded ordnance left by my father–our fathers.

I can end the planet in a holocaust. in a holocaust. in a holocaust. in a holocaust.

My weeping is grotesque. Lying here with all my limbs, and no deformities, and 1st world medicine to provide every comfort for my dying mother. Grotesque.