I am a journalist/novelist. It is art’s responsibility to hold a mirror up to reality. It is my job to make you feel uncomfortable. It is not my job or inclination to make you comfortable. Yesterday, I ended my interview with US soldiers. I had reached my quota. I asked 100 of them from all over the country. I wanted to know what the breakdown in how political or religious sides would flesh out new data. That was not what I expected to get. I did not get what I suspected.

Question: Would you kill peaceful demonstrators where Americans carrying signs that simply read: The Constitution. Would you look down a scope of kids lined up against a wall, no blindfolds for kids. Would you blow their bloody heads off because some asshole military sow tells you to do it. What kind of a human being are you. Do you drag people out of cars and beat them up with clubs. Does the human scent of raw flesh give you a Hard-On hard on.

There will be a special place for you in hell. I have always wondered what the affect and enormity of what these American boys do, and many of them relish it. That isn’t flesh they smell. It’s war. The Book of Ashes. 

All 100 of them said flat out that they would kill us . You would kill kids. Yes.

They are kids themselves. The male brain does not stop developing until the age of 25. A shitload of them are from West Virginia, and Texas.

All of them would kill us. Without hesitation. All of them would kill their own families. The military is your new family. And they do not tolerate dissent.

And they know how to bury it in the ground. Dissent is the enemy.

One of them cried. Nevertheless, he, too, would kill our children.

I talked to grunts. The powerless in the outside world. They would do what they had to do. All of them would murder everyone you love. I saw pain in the eyes of the grunt who cried.

His buddies claimed he was drunk. I believe them. Yes, all of them.

“You wanna see our muscles.

My eyes to the sky. “No, I wanna see your dick.” Much laughing. Some humping. 

As a journalist, I do not have to give you the names of my sources. Trust me, this is protected speech. All they said was they would follow orders. I think we all know what those orders will be. Eat me. If it comes to this, you will need to choose sides. I am very frustrated that writers in America do not want to rock the boat, and put analogies to where we are at, and connect them, weave them in as analogies in what you create. Now is the time to create hard. If you cannot lend your voice to dissent, go home. I put this question to a group of romance writers. They remain horrified that they would be asked to resist. Somehow, the vibe fits in quite nicely in the frozen heart of romance itself.