Tell me again how there were only two sides. How - despite having lived it - I know less about it than you do. Tell me again your story in which my part in my history is less important than what all your white boys did - selectively omitting how they fucked everything up.
Tell me about my history again white boy.
I wanna hear you tell how your government murdered our first and only effective president as a warning to all following presidents not to override military command. How american military command fundamentally refused to listen to any of the generals who'd actually fought and won in their own country. Tell me about how against the fundamental failure of American troops to do their jobs, your government decided to double down on its leadership and torch my country to the ground.
Tell me about my history again.
Tell me about how every single racist aspect of your nation - because it was richer, it must know better - took from my hands a millenia-long dream of a foreign-free Vietnam and presented it to me as a reliquary, souvenir, and token. Tell me how every thing your country fucked up about my country, every instant you insist that we were just lapdogs of your country, as though there was no pushback, as though we were happy you were there, as though I do not have to sit through the agonizing indignity of having to tear you a new one in english as opposed to happily living in a country free of your wanton stupidity,
Tell me again, what my history is white boy
No comments:
Post a Comment