There are no "good" wars or "just" wars, only death and destruction that modern day bullies in the seats of power escape by sending other people's kids to kill and die for them.

While the bullies of yore engaged in cutting and slashing, today's bullies prefer to stay safely ensconced in their palatial digs and cook up bogus fears in order to persuade the masses of the need for war against some "evil" other—even if the other is merely a noun: terror—while mouthing platitudes to freedom, democracy and even a god.

Throughout history, war has been glorified and those who have died in battle—assuming they fought for the "right" side—are deemed heroes who made the ultimate sacrifice for their country. The dead super-heroes are the ones who killed the most of the other.

War, with a few exceptions, was a male thing. Male bullies, who coveted some other nation's treasure, natural resources or land, declared the wars on the pretext of some "evil" that had to be righted and sent other people's sons to kill and be killed.

And the sons, pumped up by marching bands, parades, spiffy uniforms and cheering crowds of flag-wavers, went off to do their duty for God and country, not grasping that dead is dead and they were not going to enjoy the pomp of their funerals, whether their flag-draped caskets were brought home in broad daylight or sneaked in under cover of night.

Certain daughters, who also succumbed to the propaganda about the "glories" of war, were envious of their brothers and wanted to prove they could kill as well, if not better. All things being equal—sort of—they got their chance to kill and be killed or maimed.

Of course, few young people think about dying, something the bullies who put them in harm's way know. Maybe when the bombs are falling and the missiles and bullets are flying, they do. It's a little late then. Ah, but being killed will get their names on a plaque or a street sign—maybe even a VFW Post or American Legion hall. Only being maimed, though, will get them abandonment and obscurity, except for those wonderful holidays—Flag Day, Memorial Day, Veterans' Day—when they can don all or some part of their uniforms and crank themselves in their wheelchairs or hobble on crutches to the public celebration.

Oh, how we love our dead, but hate the living.

And on this Memorial Day, which should rightly be called Mourning Day, the psychopathic bully-in-chief, George W. Bush can revel in all the blood he caused to be spilled by uttering high-sounding shibboleths to all the American men and women who gave their lives in his criminal wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, plus all the wars that preceded his endless wars on something called "terror."

Don't worry if you miss getting in on the weekend's live action because you're watching the Indy 500 or shopping at the mall, the equally psychopathic nightly infotainment celebrities, between the commercials for harmful, if not lethal, drugs and SUVs, will dutifully show video of Bully-in-Chief Bush and all the hoopla to the fallen—the American fallen, that is. All the dead Iraqis and Afghans, being non-persons, won't be mentioned, with the exception of dead "insurgents" who had the audacity to resist the occupation of their countries. Dead Iraqi and Afghan civilians are relegated to the Memory Hole, along with stolen elections, bogus "terrorist attacks," illegal wars, war crimes and damning memos that prove the real terrorists are in Washington—Republican and Democratic terrorists.

Nor will the nightly infotainment cuties note that Bully-in-Chief Bush has managed to accomplish what all his predecessors and their big money supporters could not do: come up with a pretext for wars without end.

Ladies and gentlemen, forget about starting your engines; prepare your children to die for the greater glory of Bully-in-Chief George W. Bush.

The saddest words in any language are: what might have been . . .