My Letter to the Commander

Another Minnesota young man died in Iraq this week. I don't know him. I never met him. Until yesterday I didn't know of him. What I do know is this. He was 22. He grew up in Northwest Minnesota. His father passed away when he was a kid. I know people who unofficial became male father like figures in his life. I know he had hopes, had dream and had potential like the thousands of other men and women who serve our country, and the thousands of civilians who live in places the US invades.

And this morning I want to know how we bring our sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, those friends, those parents, those loved ones home.

It's apparent as people of this country we were trusting, misguided and mislead. And now, now I want to know what the plan is and how are we going to execute that plan in a timely fashion? How do we balance peace, and oil, and two vastly different cultures while minimizing the loss of life? This isn't some Skull&Bones game at Yale, Mr. President. You are fucking with our future. Our tax payers, home owners, teachers, mechanics and leaders of tomorrow.

Sitting in Mpls, looking at the skyline I love dearly, I ask you Mr. President Bush, what are you going to do to get our everyday leaders, those moms and dads and sisters and brothers, sons and daughters, what are you going to do to get them out of the hellish Iraq you created?

You've got until January 1, 2009 to redeem yourselves to those you serve and to those families who will never see their loved ones again. Time's ticking. And it's not a terrorist bomb, what you hear ticking is the little conscious you might still cling to since your began your illustrious position of power as one of the worst Presidents of the US. I'm glad we were smart enough to limit our Commander-In-Cheif to two terms. Sometimes the checks and balance system is ahead of its time.