This song exemplifies the mood almost everywhere during and in the immediate aftermath of the collapse of the Soviet Union. ALMOST everywhere. Everywhere except behind those curtains hiding the levers of power in the US government. it's a cryin' shame.
Those little men behind that curtain had no interest in riding the winds of change - their interest was instead in maintaining the status quo. They felt like their own grasp on power might depend on it... and maybe it did. They're still there, now aren't they?
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Personal note: I got so goddamned weary of fighting Russians. We'd been in a "Cold War" with them - one that got surprisingly hot at times - since before I was born. My Dear Old Dad had been a soldier in that same war, in the Korean War era, as a border guard in the 15th Constabulary Squadron on the border of Germany and Czechoslovakia at the beginning of the 1950's, facing down Russian soldiers patrolling the other side of that border in his day. They used to come at night and move concrete border markers a few yards into Germany, and the Americans would then come along and move them right back, trying to take a few more yards of Czechoslovakia. Sometimes, that engendered some tense confrontations when they were both on the same spot of Earth at the same time.
There was a guy in his unit, a second generation Russian refugee, who could speak Russian. They'd trade insults and other conversation across the border in the dark some times.
When the Cold War got hot, as it did at times, it splattered blood and intestines and other body parts all over the place, Russian blood, guts, and meat mingled with that of innocent bystanders in the same state... hell, you'd get an understanding that folks are surprisingly similar once you disassembled them. It was just plain tragic some times.
Still, you HAD to keep on fighting as long as that enemy was still a threat. It was madness to keep fighting them when they weren't any more.
I didn't, and still don't, understand how anyone could be knee deep in that gore and not jump at a chance for peace with victory when it presented itself. And we could have. The only hold-back was the little men pulling the levers had never actually been knee deep in it themselves. Instead, they'd been rolling and wallowing in the mud and filth generated by their own power, like so many War Pigs, and did not want that to change, didn't want to take a chance on losing their power... so they didn't. They just kept grinding along, business as usual, to maintain it. To hell with how many lives of OTHER folks they might throw away. What the hell did they care? It wasn't THEIR blood and intestines getting splattered around.
So, they just kept on fighting an enemy that no longer existed, creating another one in it's place of the same people... unnecessarily.
There will always be an enemy to fight. It's just the way of humans. The trick is to choose that enemy wisely.
They failed, in my opinion.
.
Those little men behind that curtain had no interest in riding the winds of change - their interest was instead in maintaining the status quo. They felt like their own grasp on power might depend on it... and maybe it did. They're still there, now aren't they?
===========================================================================
Personal note: I got so goddamned weary of fighting Russians. We'd been in a "Cold War" with them - one that got surprisingly hot at times - since before I was born. My Dear Old Dad had been a soldier in that same war, in the Korean War era, as a border guard in the 15th Constabulary Squadron on the border of Germany and Czechoslovakia at the beginning of the 1950's, facing down Russian soldiers patrolling the other side of that border in his day. They used to come at night and move concrete border markers a few yards into Germany, and the Americans would then come along and move them right back, trying to take a few more yards of Czechoslovakia. Sometimes, that engendered some tense confrontations when they were both on the same spot of Earth at the same time.
There was a guy in his unit, a second generation Russian refugee, who could speak Russian. They'd trade insults and other conversation across the border in the dark some times.
When the Cold War got hot, as it did at times, it splattered blood and intestines and other body parts all over the place, Russian blood, guts, and meat mingled with that of innocent bystanders in the same state... hell, you'd get an understanding that folks are surprisingly similar once you disassembled them. It was just plain tragic some times.
Still, you HAD to keep on fighting as long as that enemy was still a threat. It was madness to keep fighting them when they weren't any more.
I didn't, and still don't, understand how anyone could be knee deep in that gore and not jump at a chance for peace with victory when it presented itself. And we could have. The only hold-back was the little men pulling the levers had never actually been knee deep in it themselves. Instead, they'd been rolling and wallowing in the mud and filth generated by their own power, like so many War Pigs, and did not want that to change, didn't want to take a chance on losing their power... so they didn't. They just kept grinding along, business as usual, to maintain it. To hell with how many lives of OTHER folks they might throw away. What the hell did they care? It wasn't THEIR blood and intestines getting splattered around.
So, they just kept on fighting an enemy that no longer existed, creating another one in it's place of the same people... unnecessarily.
There will always be an enemy to fight. It's just the way of humans. The trick is to choose that enemy wisely.
They failed, in my opinion.
.