“Highway 10” is inspired by Jeremy Scahill’s Blackwater. Scahill’s ongoing work fleshing out the radical ideology of what in theory is the world’s largest Christian militia cannot be understated. When Bush-Cheney- Rumsfeld swapped out the American military for this highly overpaid, tax-supported mercenary corporation, they privatized the war, demoralized the U.S. Army, and put into motion a ‘military force’ not to prosecute an orderly transition of a despotic government to a democratic one, but a security force to guarantee the safety of privileged corporations to rebuild Iraq at the expense of the American taxpayer without regard to accountability, civic regulation, tribal and historical sensitivity, and the rule of law. In fact, the civil requirements and rudimentary infrastructure protocols underscoring Blackwater’s alleged mission were largely ignored in deference to their wily-nily ‘military’ obligations. I believe this is one of the Bush administration’s greatest scams and in a world where justice could prosecute the powerful, Blackwater’s CEO, Eric Prince, Bush, et al, would be indicted war criminals.

“Highway 10” is about the unfortunate men who, for whatever reason, bought into Blackwater’s mission, went to Falujah on one fateful day—against the U.S. Army’s recommendations—were ambushed, killed, dragged from their vehicle to the street, through the mob, to the bridge, hoisted up side down and lit on fire, and shown to the world as payment for some kind of arrogance that is unfathomable to those of us who have to endure the black and white histrionics of American media reporting. For many Americans, the image of these men burning—the ash and dust flaking off their bodies—was a call to wage a war that even unto this emblematic horror still cannot to this day be understood or explained to these many Americans.

The back-masked phrase at the end of the first part of the song is bit chickenshit, especially in light of some of the strong feelings I have. But that’s how ambivalent this whole mess is for me and how unclear this so-called war has proceeded for so many who just can’t let go of their anger. Anyway, right now I still feel this way and I’m not waving the flag. And Blackwater can go to Hell.

The Tag that follows “Highway 10” is David Morneau’s piece I call “V engeance,” which was inspired by Mark Twain’s poem “War Prayer.” I first read Twain’s anti-war poem when my older brother was stationed at the Naval War College in Newport, Rhode Island. This poem was bound in a special book- length edition illustrated with pen and ink drawings by John Groth. Published after his death (“for only the dead know the truth,” according to Twain), the ‘prayer’ is in two parts—part one, spoken with gusto by stentorian voices invoking the grateful masses to tender their prayers, love and patriotic zeal for those soldiers about to go to war against a soulless enemy; the second part, spoken softly in church by a Stranger reminding them that their prayer of victory, honor, glory and safety for their sons and husbands was also a prayer for slaughter, devastation, disgrace, and homelessness for others—all sins against God. It was a prayer of vengeance. Dave uses a collage of sounds—lambs bleating and lions roaring and a minister invoking Twain’s import, twisted from their original incarnation, electrically charged in some kind of threnody to an unanswerable prayer. Madness with an Amen. I tremble when I hear Dave behave this way. This is a kid who used to clown and juggle for little kids.