The lovely folks, our lords and leaders over at the British Government have just passed a vote through all fair democracy to bomb Syria, and many of them left with a smirk and a smile on their face, satisfied that what they’ve done is right and that we’re winning the war on terrorism.
Thousands will die, and with a swish and a flick of the pen, some rich white people over on some island a world away have decided that it is right to let this happen, for the greater good. Homes will burn and children will bleed and it will all be for a greater cause, and we are right.
My voice was heard tonight. Your voice was heard. Tonight, we stood up in the House of Commons and told these privileged few who get to make the decisions why they are wrong, who they will be hurting, and how this has all happened before, hundreds and thousands of times.
We have elected to sling fireballs at crowds so we can hit the cowards hiding among them, whilst we busy ourselves with civilised lives in groups, avoiding the strangers in dark coats among us, horrified at the notion of fireballs landing at our feet.
Tonight, we sat down like civilised animals and signed away the lives of thousands to right the wrong of the hundreds that were killed on our side.
Next week’s blog post is already written. I will not be changing it but I can’t guarantee I’d be writing “Devil’s Advocate” after the decisions made tonight.
Perpetually Perturbed 