Oh Ho, the Glory of War

Okay, so, I probably shouldn’t share this online, but I’m doing it anyway. Carpe diem and all that.

I happen to quite like writing satire, even if I’m not very good at it, and I whipped up a little poem / song about war, because that’s apparently the sort of thing I do in my spare time now. It’s anything but subtle, but I rather like how it turned out in a dark sort of way. My entire life the US has been at war with somebody or another, so this probably stems from that. That and my general disgust with the Arms Trade and so forth. You get the gist.

Obviously this poem is satire (even if it’s a very on-the-nose kind of satire). I don’t actually think war is glorious in any capacity. Quite the contrary, hence the satire. And obviously, this isn’t targeted at the brave men and women who fight in the armed forces, but rather the arms industry and the glorifying of war and all that jazz.

.

Oh ho, the glory of war!

What joy it is to mop the floor,

With heaps and heaps of blood and gore,

The glory is so bright and true,

It makes heroes for me and you,

And shows they’re true men through and through!

.

Trample the weak and blow the house,

Sweep the trench and trample the mouse,

The world may laugh, the world may cry,

But it’s never better than when the bullets fly!

.

We send our boys n’girls away,

Over the hills and faraway,

To kill and die the righteous way,

So we can live our nice lives,

And never care who lives and dies,

‘cause we’ll have cash up to our eyes!

.

Trample the weak and blow the house,

Sweep the trench and trample the mouse,

The world may laugh, the world may cry,

But it’s never better than when the bullets fly!

.

Sure we’ll make a few mistakes,

Everyone has growing aches,

Profit’s what the war machine makes,

Even if we blast some things,

Belonging to some foreign fiends,

Doesn’t make much difference it seems!

.

Trample the weak and blow the house,

Sweep the trench and trample the mouse,

The world may laugh, the world may cry,

But it’s never better than when the bullets fly!

.

A bullet’s a dollar sign,

Missiles my ride on a cruise line,

We’re getting richer all the time!

One day they’re bad, next our friend,

Ever’y war is just a trend,

And we’ll never, ever, ever let it end!

.

Trample the weak and blow the house,

Sweep the trench and trample the mouse,

The world may laugh, the world may cry,

But it’s never better than when the bullets fly!

.

With that over, I’m going to go throw up now. Even if I’m blatantly mocking it, dealing with this sort of mentality makes me feel ill. I would say I hope you enjoyed, but that makes absolutely no sense, so I guess I’ll say I hope you didn’t enjoy.

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2 thoughts on “Oh Ho, the Glory of War

  1. Nice mock-heroic tone to this, and the bouncy, lively rhythm works well as a jangling counterpoint to the sick, bloodthirsty subject matter.
    In Britain, they make us read World War I poetry in school (because it’s fairly unsubtle and thus easy to teach), and there’s very little in the world that’s better calculated to destroy such ideas as “the glory of war” or even simple patriotism than a heavy wash of Siegfried Sassoon down the back of the neck.
    In my school you were subtly invited to mock the “naive” Rupert Brooke, who managed to hold on to some sort of love of country, whereas Sassoon and Wilfred Owen really understood and had seen through the sham: “The old lie: ‘Dulce et decorum est/Pro patria mori”, as Owen put it (“It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country”, if your Latin’s not up to that).
    I know exactly where you’re coming from, Luke. Particularly over and against the UK, one of the things I found shockingly different about the US was the incredibly high profile given to the military, veterans and war. I guess it shouldn’t have surprised me given the ingrained love of guns that most Americans seem to have stamped on their forebrains in utero, but it struck me unexpectedly. US Memorial Day is in late May, and is a party that traditionally begins the long round of summer activities, with parades and (around here) barbecues and flag-waving and bands. British Remembrance Day is in November, and is a solemn act of remembering the dead, with minute’s silence and the laying of wreaths at the national memorials to the war dead and the playing of the Last Post (which is like Taps for us Brits). America’s just so much more collectively a worshipper at the temple of Mars than the UK is.

    Liked by 1 person

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