It ought to stop trying to mold other nations by deceit, threat, bribery or force into some kind of mirror image of itself.
But I wonder... has it looked into a mirror lately?
The metaphorical cracked mirror that hangs in its playroom perhaps?
Let us take a look... and imagine a metaphorical “West” standing there.
The face we see is haggard and the hands blood-soaked. The decor behind the figure in black is that of a torture cell.
The expression we see in the mirror is angry, the eyes are narrowed to slits, in one hand is a gun, in the other a cattle prod.
The floor and walls are sticky, red-smeared and reek of death.
The West’s recent games have involved the screams of dying civilians and they echo here still.
The victims were rent apart by high-powered weaponry, cluster bombs and assassination drones.
The West’s playroom room is dark.
It is strewn with the myriad bones of the dead that crunch and snap underfoot.
Do we see some contrition in that haggard face? Not a trace.
The eyes appear to look through the surface of the mirror, gazing on some other reality entirely.
Do they see virtuous deeds? Fully justified slaughter?
Does a list of achievements scroll down that make all the dirty dealings, destabilizations, assassinations, attacks, invasions, bombings and mass slaughter “worth it”?
Do those eyes imagine wreaking more death and destruction on all the remaining targets it wants to bring “freedom” and “democracy” to?
China, Russia, Iran, Syria, Venezuela, Cuba, Nicaragua, Lebanon and Yemen.
Yemen is of course already well underway.
Something between a grimace and a smirk, no doubt meant to be a smile distorts the face.
For a moment the visage of the Saudi prince appears and bows low in gratitude for all the help given. His hands run crimson rivers. The same crimson drips from his mouth as he smiles back through the dark glass. Two gargoyles almost believe they can smell the fetid breath of the other.
Our metaphorical friend suppresses the sudden urge to vomit and turns his mind to much more pleasant visions.
He sees the West he epitomizes in overarching splendor where countless satellites are beautifully ranged over all the docile nations of the Earth monitoring every byte of data every nanosecond everywhere.
He sees the appropriate level of fear needed has been attained, that which keeps the inhabitants aware of the deterrents that can be used against any resistance.
He sees the myriad black sites where he can torture any deigning to resist his power.
He sees the networks of agents who will do his bidding... and they are legion.
He sees the diplomatic spy networks, the riot member training centers, the intelligence operatives, the saboteurs, provocateurs and the plethora of criminal agents and blackmailed “helpers”. He sees the assassins, the CIA, MI6 and GCHQ agents, the thousands of NSA watchers.
He sees a prison planet. A safe place for humankind to be maintained in docile compliance.
And, to him, it is good.
For he is god of this world, a world made safe at last for the West.
The scene fades. The figure melts away.
The playroom is empty now... save for ten million ghosts who now begin to howl.
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