Happy Thanksgiving to all. Too much to be thankful for. The list could go on for days. This blurb from the book "The Zanzibar Chest" shook things into a chilling perspective. Its taken from a chapter about Somalia in the early nineties.
"Inside the docks it was like a circus with various freelance gangs killing one another: militias, the private armies of grain and sugar merchants, stevedores, and unemployed members of the defunct police forces in tattered uniforms. Worst of all were the cripples. My guards were hardened killers, but they went pale with fear when they saw a squadron of these deformed creatures barreling across the tarmac toward us. They charged in wheelchairs, on crutches, or on trolleys like skateboards-paraplegics, victims of polio and land mines. One had the swollen legs and the gourd-sized testicles of elephantiasis. They bristled with guns and grenades and we would have to speed off before they could skid to a halt or drop their crutches to take aim at us." Aiden Hartley
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