CHARLES HAYES - HONESTY

​Charles Hayes, a multiple Pushcart Prize Nominee, is an American who lives part time in the Philippines and part time in Seattle with his wife. A product of the Appalachian Mountains, his writing has appeared in Ky Story’s Anthology Collection, Wilderness House Literary Review, The Fable Online, Unbroken Journal, CC&D Magazine, Random Sample Review, The Zodiac Review, eFiction Magazine, Saturday Night Reader, Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, Scarlet Leaf Publishing House, Burning Word Journal, eFiction India, and others.

​Honesty 

​To be complicit in the killing of people that have done nothing but live under a different flag is supposed to be a criminal act according to almost anybody anywhere. But somehow, looking back to the beginning of this American great age of perpetual war, little by little, this crime has acquired an informal ‘codicil’ that allows the killing of innocents if one of those under that different flag kills some of those people first. I might add that this excuse is almost always employed by the most powerful as a justification to kill, in order to stop killing. It is usually the first thing bandied about before the blood begins to spill. Yet long ago, before this time, the notion that destroying something in order to save it was recognized as imbecilic. Or at its semantic least, counterproductive
     To have been involved in this kind of killing as the one who was doing the killing should have placed special emphasis on some of the ramifications of killing. Perhaps a clearer perspective would be one. One that can not be shared by those not so directly involved.
     Given that such a perspective would be quick to reveal the absurdity of killing to stop killing, it should lead one to either of two different attitudes and their concomitant conclusions. Either such killing does not respect life, it is the power and its ability to prevail that is more respected, or there is a respect for life but one, lacking the smarts, fails to see it for what it is. At this point one must ask how many democratic leaders who make it through the cesspool of an election are stupid. One must also ask that same question about the electorate.
     ‘A Divided Nation, Hawks and Doves:’ As much as ‘killing one’s own people,’ this hawk and dove language of the ‘codicil’ sentences many a tree to death for plain pine coffins whether one gives a damn about life or one doesn’t.
     Related disparities will naturally follow such a dishonest ‘codicil.’ To hear about the 1% and the distribution of wealth in this country is certainly not an uncommon one. Any poll to get figures which would clarify these demographics is not in the works. However, only 1% can not divide a whole country. How about if the distribution of wealth is such that good and caring people who must live hand to mouth don’t last very long? Survival takes precedence. Who can give a damn about populations elsewhere when their own life is constantly threatened by a lack of proper maintenance? If bullets and butter is the only way to stay alive I submit that 1% will quickly balloon much higher. In fact a greater proportion of the full bellies will get less from the killing than the hungry. That is, no doubt, one reason no such study is in the pipeline. Nor a reason for hope when it comes to better fare.
     Many have been slow to grab the shiny ring of ambition and opportunity. Some have actively avoided it. Perhaps those are the lucky ones. Passing in a flash and with so many hands after it, the glittering circle reveals a trail of corrosion around it only to those with clear eyes. Especially those whose hands have been blistered on the fields of death. To them with a propensity to question the honesty of such ‘codicils,’ having been the sword of that language once, some things do not quickly wash. However, as in all occupations, a few have parlayed their bullets into a place nearer the swing of the ring. But most did not. A broad effort to pacify those holdouts with ribbons and lofty labels has recently been launched but it will not cloud certain minds for very long, if at all. For them life is bells and whistles, not the reverse.
     It is written anonymously many places, “I am a free person, I do not vote.” If given a modicum of thought, this statement, when brought to the arena of this missive, no doubt, tells of the writer's intent. But how many really see  it? It is antithetical to a way of life. Or many would say, a way of death. The great divide, a divided nation, rich it is for some, but heavily leaning on a crutch for all.