Well, I wasn't really sure where it belonged. I posted it here because I thought that it made for some intelligent thinking... Anyways, the way that the article talks about it, Sept. 11 is a day to remember. We should memoralize the people who passed that day, and remember how it helped the nation stand united. Atleast, that is what I understand from the article. Again, I'm sorry if this is in the wrong place and... if its not very much a discussion topic.
I really just wanted people to read this article because I think it speaks very much about our current politcs and social lives. But I suppose I can ask a question. What do you guys think of the accusations, so to speak, that the writer makes towards Bush and his administration in this article. Where do you see the future of the US going because of the actions of the Bush administration. Also, feel free to comment and ask your own questions in regards to this article.
Vexen did not want to continue with that subject, even though she did not like the response. She wanted the old Marluxia back, but she figured that the flower was right. Everyone was safer this way. "Are you hungry?" The scientist spoke as she looked through the refrigerator. "Because I am starving!" Rummaging through the food contents, she finally pulled out two microwavable dinners. One was pizza and the other chicken. Looking to the tiny pink-haired boy, she asked him, "Which do you want?"
... ok mr.broom... i think i might make some resolutions for the heck of it... 1. work harder in school 2. finish all college apps. 3. get healthier... 4. ummm.... cant think of any more...
This is from www.truthout.org. I'm not so much looking for replays as I am putting this out there for everyone to read. I'm sorry if this is in the wrong forum. A Sentinel in Time By William Rivers Pitt t r u t h o u t | Columnist Thursday 28 December 2006 The calendar pages of our collective history are dotted with a gloomy constellation of days marked in blood, in woe, and in regret. The assassinations of Lincoln and Kennedy; that last, hurried helicopter flight from that last rooftop on that last day of our time in Vietnam; the day four lifeless little bodies were pulled from the rubble of a bombed church in Birmingham; the December morning when Pearl Harbor was transformed into a graveyard etched in infamy, the September morning when we all watched those proud Towers in Manhattan crumble and fall - these moments, and the others of like kind too vast in number to name, defined us and transformed us even as they left their scars. Sometimes, when such a grim milestone passes, we can say to ourselves, yes, it was this terrible day that revealed and released the strength, courage and perseverance which came, in time, to define that moment. We can, with deserved pride, glory in the memory of our passage through those crucibles, confident in the hard-won knowledge that we all have the capacity to overcome any trial, and that surpassing good can be forged in the fires of sorrow and pain. Too often, however, we come to remember a day of darkness as bereft, with empty hands and hollowed hearts, deprived of the chance or ability to do more than bow our heads and wish it could have been, somehow, different. It requires a long passage of time, in most instances, to allow the cold realities of such days to sink in, and to absorb the brutal totality of consequences we have been burdened to endure in the aftermath. Some moments linger, haunting us, seemingly beyond redemption or solace. Worst of all, such days breed more days to match or surpass them. The wretched offspring of one malignant moment are birthed into our future, where they wait like deep chasms in a darkened road. Like Booth's bullet, they cut a swath through time itself, and no matter our efforts or exertions, we never seem quite able to reach a place where we are free from their damned and damnable power to do us harm. On the twentieth day of this coming new year, we will mark the sixth anniversary of the moment George W. Bush stood before Supreme Court Chief Justice William Rehnquist, raised his right hand into a bitter wind, and swore to preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States of America. This, in the fullness of time, may well stand as such a day. Everything we have endured these last six years - the death, the horror, the fear, the anger - was born that afternoon in Washington, DC. We have already suffered myriad consequences because of it - the shame of Abu Ghraib; the lingering fear of blue skies and airplanes; the ebb tide of freedom as rights become privileges too easily withheld, the bottomless sorrow stitched into nearly three thousand folded American flags while taps played to the wind - and it is a bleak certainty that further suffering born on that day lies in wait. Consider some other anniversaries we will mark in this new year. February 5th will be the fourth anniversary of Colin Powell's presentation before the United Nations, in which he stated without equivocation that Saddam Hussein possessed large stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction that could easily be delivered to terrorists for use against us. The invasion and occupation of Iraq, and all the bloody calamities to follow, became an inevitability on this day. It was not so much the presentation itself that sealed the deal - much of which was and remains laughably transparent - but Powell himself. Wreathed in the fawning adulation of the media establishment, the myth of his rectitude carried the day, thus damning untold thousands to death, suffering, and pain. March 19th will likewise be the fourth anniversary of the invasion of Iraq, of "Shock and Awe," and of the moment a match was put to the fuse. Beyond the blood already spilled because of this day - blood like an ocean - is the carnage yet to come. Before much of this new year is gone, the only people still talking about "winning" in Iraq will be that small cadre of wretches who created this anniversary in the first place, whose monochromatic ideologies exploded an inescapable quagmire that will be generational in its impact upon us all. May 1st will be the fourth anniversary of the day President Bush stood before an assembled gathering of servicemen and women on the deck of the aircraft carrier Abraham Lincoln to gleefully declare, under a bright banner reading "Mission Accomplished," that victory in Iraq had been achieved. Little needs to be said here, because the obvious grossness of some moments requires no further elaboration, except this: Of the nearly three thousand soldiers killed in Iraq, and the nearly 47,000 soldiers wounded in Iraq, only the barest fraction fell before the first of May 2003. All the rest have come in the long days, weeks, months, and years since that bright banner was unfurled. December 17th will be the second anniversary of Bush's public confirmation that he had indeed authorized the National Security Agency to tap the telephones of countless American citizens - said taps having been undertaken without warrants. The Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act of 1978, a law requiring these warrants to protect citizens against undue governmental intrusion, was discarded out of hand through these actions. Despite the fact that almost no requests for FISA warrants have ever been denied, and that the parameters for obtaining these warrants are so broad that they can be obtained even after the surveillance is underway, Bush and his people deemed the FISA requirements too restrictive. On this anniversary, we mark the moment when a president placed himself above the law by fiat and suffered no consequences - the moment when each and every one of us stepped deeper into the doomed, imprisoned shadow of Winston Smith. These are but a small sampling of the moments, days, decisions, and consequences unleashed on January 20, 2001. Freighted with deadly potential, each of these was born that day, and each has itself become a singularity, a creator of mayhem and strife in its own right. As that first moment poisoned the potential of so many tomorrows, so now do these. The bomb that kills a child in Baghdad creates the father whose revenge will be gained by another's senseless death. The official lie that goes unchallenged clears a path for the deadlier lies to follow. A deliberate chip in the walls defending our rights is the perfect spot to lay in the pry bar, until the chip becomes a hole through which tyranny may pass with stunning ease. Thus, the anniversaries of woe are compounded; consequences spawned by consequences, and a future once defined by hope is transformed into a territory of dread. Yet, in spite of all the horrors arrayed before us, even as our uncertain future whispers its omens of grief from an unfathomable darkness, there is a simple and unassailable truth standing sentinel against despair. We are that truth - all of us, every one. We are a defiant counterweight that can tip the scales of history. The wellspring of limitless possibility and potential that is humanity's astonishing birthright bestows upon each of us the means to be the alchemists of our own fate. You are the bulwark, as this new year approaches: a defining line between the possible and the inevitable. The terrible moments of our past reach out to define our future, to create new anniversaries of mourning from the old. Only your will can keep this beast at bay. If you choose to, if you summon the courage and strength and perseverance that have served us well so many times before, the momentum of that cold January day and all the days that followed will be checked. You are stronger than history, if you choose to be so. The future is yours to create, if you choose to do so. The moments to come are yours. Let nothing and no one steal them from you. Guard them with your life, because that is exactly what they are. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- William Rivers Pitt is a New York Times and internationally bestselling author of two books: War on Iraq: What Team Bush Doesn't Want You to Know and The Greatest Sedition Is Silence. His newest book, House of Ill Repute: Reflections on War, Lies, and America's Ravaged Reputation, will be available this winter from PoliPointPress.
yeah. this was at the end of the game. i liked this scene. i thought it really tied in the kh ending to it. i really would have liked if it had been its own cutscene, though...
Feliz Ano Nuevo!/ Happy New Year! I know this is a bit early, but I thought I might as well post it anyways. HAPPY NEW YEARS, KH-VIDS! I hope everyone had enjoyed their year thus far! And I hope everyone the best for next year! Anyone going out to party this night? And even though I never make resolutions, anyone care to share their New Year resolutions? HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Vexen was defeated. She knew there was nothing she could do to help and worrying about helping would not make her life any easier. So, she smiled an understanding smile. "Come on. Let's go to the kitchen. I'm kind of hungry." But she did not open a portal. Instead, the woman picked the child up and set him on the ground. She took his hand in hers and began to walk to their destination. "Marluxia." She looked down at the small flower boy as they walked down a hall. "Will you stay small for much longer?" As much as Vexen loved this tiny Marly, she missed the normal one.
jack, the point you bring up is one that ive struggled with for a long time. i hate violence in any way, shape, or form. i am agaisnt the death penalty. yet, what are we supposed to do with people like saddam or even other crazy psychopaths? sure you can lock 'em up... but then you get crowded jails and chances for escape.... and its just a touchy subject. i could never bring myself to hurt someone or support someone whose hurt another.... but i cant just bring myself to full out go against what was done. probably, if it were up to me, i would have locked him up.
Vexen watched as the two men left, and then turned with a worried expression towards Marluxia. "I'm sorry, sweatheart. I know you said to stay away and do not want my help, but I'm scared for you." She wanted desperately to help the one she loved and get to the bottom of the "scawy man" incident. "Come on." The scientist lovingly picked up the child and opened a portal, not before making sure that no one was around to see. Entering in her lab, she set the tiny flower on a lab bed and looked him straight in the eyes. "Listen to me, sweetheart. I know that even though you look like a child, you are still the same Marluxia from before, and I want you to understand something. I love you..." She paused to emphasize her words. "I love you, and I don't want anything to happen to you." She hugged the young boy and whispered, "Please let me help you. I want to plug you to my lab machines and find out what is wrong." ------------------------------ OoC: Sorry for not posting sooner. Tonight was my "go out and have fun with friends" night so I was not home for almost the entire day. :o
The scientist began to talk to Axel as the other two members were goofing off. "Did you hear what he said? I'm worried about Marluxia. First he tries to... kill us or control us with his collars. Then he's making child candy. The other day he passed out and when he woke up he told me that someone dark was trying to get him. Now... well, just look at him." Vexen laughed at Demyx and the tiny Marluxia. Still, as soon as the little flower boy began to cry and talk about summinging sitars, she knew she had to put an end to the scene. "Shhh, now, Marly." She put the flower he had given her behind one ear and knelt down to the little boy, grimacing as she looked at the other two nobodies, knowing that they were probably not very happy with the youngster at the moment, especially Demyx whose hair was covered in sand. "Don't worry if mean old Demy won't let you play with his sitar. We can find something better to do, right?" She grabbed the child's hand and wiped away his tears. She herself did not feel the least bit comfortable with all the staring that Marluxia's crying was causing them. "We could play in my lab..."
well first, although kissinger never became an evil dictator, he was one of the leading characters behind the dirty war, in which thousands of innocent people were kidnapped, tortured, and killed. he knew about it, and led the dirty war. also, bush is no dictator, but he is at fault for the deaths of many people, and i am not only talking about those out at war. the united states has also tortured many people, some who may not have been guilty of anything, and certainly not anything that would give anyone the right to torture them. not to mention that bush had already broken many of the laws of war. to begin, he and his administration lied to everyone in order to go to war... a useless power struggle war. if not hung, since that is very harsh, he should at least be impeached and jailed. also, as much as saddam was an a** who probably got what he deserved, what of those in darfur? you know, the ones active in genocide? im not saying that im not happy that a dictator like saddam was brought to justice, but it seems like his hanging has caused everyone to celebrate and overlook the fact that there are many other evil dictators still out there, some who have caused a lot more pain and damage than saddam.
you guys do realize that he is only one of many who deserve to be punished for the occurances in this war and for their unjustifiable actions? and many of those deserving punishment are in the US, as they are in other parts of the world. as much as im not in favor of the death penaltly, im going to put that belief aside right now. if he was hung, then i say bush, kissinger, and others deserve the same treatment.
Vexen was puzzled by Marluxia's response, and heart broken at his obvious fear. "Shhh, shhh," she said. brushing away his tears. "We'll go play. Let's go find a playground somewhere." Vexen opened a portal and walked into an alley, flower boy in hand. "Come on! I'll sing a song while we look for some park or other!" Vexen ruffled the boy's hair, making him laugh a little, and carried him with her into the bustle of the town they had come to. Singing happily down the side walk, the scientist put the small boy on her shoulders. Soon, the pair found a playground and Vexen let the child roam free to play, joining him down the slide and in the sand box. Oh, Marluxia. What is wrong? Will everything be alright? She wanted to relieve the nobody of his worries, but later she was determined to find out who this bad person was trying to hurt her flower. For now, she put on a happy face and attitude and entertained the boy.
Vexen took the frightened child into her arms and clung onto him. She was extremely worried about him. "Don't worry, my dear. No one is going to hurt you. Not while I'm around." She wanted to sound brave for the child, even though she knew that there was little she could do to protect Marluxia. "And I'm sorry my unibrow is ugl..." She paused, looking extemely confused. "Unibrow?!" Walking with the child in her hands to the bathroom mirror, the scientist realized that she, like the flower child, had some interesting black marks on her face. That Luxord. "Marly, do you want to have a candy and turn back to normal to figure this all out...? Or would you like to go somewhere nice to play?" Before we do anything I'm going to have to wash this off, she thought, glancing at herself once more before leaving the bathroom.
eh... your name makes me think youre the old kairi... but youre not... anyways, im glad you decided to join! you'll love it! ;)
Vexen jolted awake, responding to Marluxia's tiny kid skriek. "What's wrong?!" The woman looked at the boy and hugged him before stopping herself. Slowly, she moved back and looked at the flower child's face. It was covered in black doodles. "What happened to you face.?" Thinking that the toddler had screamed about the drawings on his face, which she suspected had been done by the absent Luxord, she had to keep herself from laughing.
"Oh dear." Vexen carefully laid Marluxia down on her bed, tucking him in. Then she did the same with Luxord. She cleaned her room that was in complete chaos, and then sat on the bed next to the two toddlers. She liked the nobodies as children; they were so much easier to deal with. Vexen softly sang a tune for the sleeping children until she felt fatigue come over her. She laid next to the children carefully and fell asleep.
Vexen picked up the tiny Marluxia, eyeing Luxord, who looked ready to make some trouble. "Do you want some of the reversal candies?" She asked both children, but she looked to Marluxia when asking. She hugged the child, making her way to Luxord. She kneeled next to the little boy. "What do you guys say? You want me to give you the candies?"
Vexen could not help but smile at the cute little Marluxia. She knelt next to him. "Well, aren't you a sweat heart?" She forgot about being upset over her messy room because both toddlers were too adorable. "Will you guys tell me what happened? Why are you both so young?" She was using a motherly voice, and smiled sweetly awaiting an answer.
