Can we just say to all the politicians who pompously intone the word “sacrifice” over the freshly dead bodies of Australian soldiers:

BULLSHIT!
WEASEL!
UNSPEAK!

Rudd

“ His sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

Turnbull:

“ All Australians are indebted for this, the greatest of sacrifices in our name.”

Let’s be really clear.

They didn’t “SACRIFICE”.

Sacrifice requires an intention. Death wasn’t their intention. Their intention was to stay alive.

To sacrifice is, roughly literally, to perform a sacred rite.

There was nothing ritual about the Australian soldier being killed in Afghanistan yesterday. Nor was there anything ‘sacred’.

Soldiers don’t “sacrifice”.

They get killed,

blasted,

blown to pieces,

in an obscenity we call war.

Blood splatters everywhere.

Pieces of shattered bone, skull, leg, liver, brain fly around.

Soldiers scream and groan in agony before they lose consciousness and leave their families without a husband or wife, father or mother, son or daughter, or friend.

To glorify and sanitise this as “sacrifice” is a willful, disingenuous and deliberate misrepresentation of the truth and an abomination in the language.

It is an attempt to make death in war acceptable or even good, somehow holy and blessed instead of admitting the horror, the awful, the dreadful, truth that people who have actually been there almost invariably describe — if they have words they can even bring themselves to speak.

Instead of being honest, the politicians go on to stitch the poor dead soldier onto the false myths of the faded, fraying, Anzac fabric.

“ He was a fine and courageous soldier in the great Anzac tradition,” Mr Rudd said.

And when they show images on television, they show PR footage of the Aussies dashing around with their rifles and hi-tech helmets being macho.

They never show pictures of their guts being sprayed everywhere.

Then there is the other nonsense.

At a time like this thoughts, prayers, condolences and sympathies are thick in the air like a flock of pigeons on crystal meth.

Rudd:

“ On behalf of the Australian government I extend my condolences to the family of this soldier, his friends and to his loved ones.” The thoughts and prayers of the entire nation were with the soldier’s family at this most difficult time, he said. “I would like to convey my deepest sympathy to his loved ones,” he said.

Mr Rudd and Opposition Leader Malcolm Turnbull have extended sympathies to the soldier’s family.

Turnbull:

“ The thoughts and prayers of all Australians are with the soldier’s family.”

Air Chief Marshal Houston:

“ On behalf of our nation and the Australian Defence Force, I convey our deepest sympathies to his loved one.”

Our question is:

when the PM sends, conveys, or “extends” his thoughts, prayers, sympathies and condolences to us, how exactly do they get here?

How can we tell they have arrived?

What do they look like?

Should we keep the wrapping paper?

How big are they – will they all fit in my sock drawer?

If they are “deepest” sympathies, do I need a bigger drawer?

When someone’s “heart goes out” to us, do we have to have a special jar to keep it in?

What actually are these things?

What do they mean?

What actual value are they to us?

How much did they cost?

The answer to the last four questions are:

nothing,

nothing,

fuckall

fucking nothing.

Talk is cheap and mealy-mouthed words and pompous forms of words are empty and meaningless.

So, for a politician, the price is right.

They serve the speaker, not the supposed recipient who gets precisely nothing in fact. But at least the PM looks and sounds good and solemn and, who knows, might be a slightly better chance for re-election one day.

And by the way, how can Houston speak on behalf of “Our Nation”? The answer is, he can’t. The nation is not defined by the military. Neither his authority nor his remit extend beyond the military. He is unelected and cannot speak for anyone except his constituency, much as he might feel moved to by the occasion.

SECOND THOUGHTS

This cynical, political treatment of real human sadness is, we think, an example of what we like to call “Flashcard Politics”. The masters of this technique are Obama’s media team (greek columns, Lincoln monument, cheap emotional triggers etc. covering up the same old same old).

Rudd and his writers do it without shame