In light of Timothy McVeigh’s execution yesterday morning, I wanted to post my journal entry for tonight. I’d been out of town since Saturday and had no access to a TV or radio until this evening…
Im back in town. Being gone was nice. I didnt have any communication with the outside world except for Mondays Newspaper that I picked up at the lake to read up on the McVeigh execution. It was printed before his execution. By the time I read it, he was dead.
I’m sad. I’m sad but I understand. I’m sad that McVeigh blew up 168 people. I’m sad that 168 families have to live with the memory of his handiwork. But I’m also sad for the lives and the families of those blown up at Waco… but I dont see anyone itching to inject those agents with a lethal dose of potassium chloride or muscle relaxers. And I dont understand why. I know that its wrong to kill. But really, its just wrong to kill your own. If McVeigh had blown up 168 Iraqi men, women and children, he would’ve come back to the US a hero, not a villain. We choose who deserves to live and die by citizenship, by color, by economic status… and anyone who thinks differently is kidding themselves. McVeigh said that he felt sorry for the suffering of those who were affected by the bombing but looked at them as a casualty of war.
The men we’re told are heros have executed more men, women and children than you could possibly fit into the Murrah building. But thats okay… that was necessary… they weren’t real people, right?
Our government sanctioned the killings of countless children during Vietnam. Children!! No different than little Baylee Almon… The only difference is that Time didnt run an issue with their broken and bloodied bodies on the cover… and therefore, it doesnt matter to us. They dont matter to us. Just stories of a war that we feel we won. And thats what’s important, right? Victory, not compassion. We are -all- murderers. We are all capable of killing for our cause. In our defense. To protect what is important to us. Don’t kid yourself. I wonder how many of you felt your own fangs begin to bare as they walked Mr. McVeigh down his own green mile. Did you feel your own blood coarsing through your veins… seeking a righteous murder… Seeking a murder… but covering it with righteous indignation. Seeking bloodshed, but too shameful to admit it. Hiding it behind cameras and lobbyists and victims tears. I dont condone Timothy McVeigh’s actions. I don’t condone the ATF’s actions. I don’t condone the murders of countless foreigners in the name of our great country. I don’t condone them… But I understand.
To the parents of Timothy McVeigh and to the families of those lost in the bombing, and to the families of those lost in Waco and to the nations we’ve waged wars against, I’m sorry for your losses…
…but I understand.