Mankind is basically a battlefield... a dark cellar in which a well-bred spinster lady and a sex crazed monkey are forever engaged in mortal combat, the struggle being refereed by a rather nervous bank clerk. -- D. Bannister
Man, I just don't know what to say about this Elian Gonzales kid.
I mean, nobody deserves the crap this kid is getting. It's
like a hole opened up in the sky and an endless stream of
War Turds are raining down on him forever. Poor little bastard.
In a just world, this wouldn't happen. In a just world, a kid who survived a
trip from Cuba to Florida in a tropical storm strapped to a piece of plywood
with the bloated corpse
of his drowned mother would get to go to the Big Rock Candy Mountain or the
Willy Wonka factory and gorge himself on ice cream and play Sony Dreamcast for
ever and ever and ever.
But it's not a just world. There are people who can look at a story like Elian's
and think, "How can I make hay out of this little kid's unimaginable misery? How
can I turn the publicity around this kid's Sandpaper Odyssey to the Fuckdungeons
of Hell into some advantage for my political agenda?" So they fuck with this kid
and make him an international symbol of SOMETHING, a political prize, a
Rorschach image for their own weirdo ideas of what's right and wrong in the world.
I propose that there be a special kind of passport given out by the United
Nations or something for kids like EG who've been through the Shitblaster
Gauntlet and come out the other side. Some cool little booklet that says, "I
have been places you and your ridiculous cronies pray that will never see. Your
stupid national borders and diplomacy and embargoes and etcetera mean fuckall to
me. Get out of my way and let me get on with my life."
This would be superfantastic. There's just a point when you don't deserve the
horseshit treatment from bureaucrats and armed thugs, and Elian Gonzales has
crossed it.
