It is a time of freedom and fear, of Gaia and of borders, of many paths and the widening of
a universal toll road, emptying country and swelling cities, of the public bought into
privacy and the privacy of the public sold into invisible data banks and knowing
algorithms. It is the time of the warrior's peace and the miser's charity, when the
planting of a seed is an act of conscientious objection.
These are the times when maps fade and direction is lost. Forwards is backwards now, so we glance sideways at the strange lands through which we are all passing, knowing for certain only that our destination has disappeared. We are unready to meet these times, but we proceed nonetheless, adapting as we wander, reshaping the Earth with every tread. Behind us we have left the old times, the standard times, the high times. Welcome to the irregular times. Cresaptown, Maryland was never a very well known place. It's the kind of town that's always hoping for someone to make it kind of big, like to become the Vice President of a Fortune 500 company, or to invent a kitchen device. There's no shame in that - in fact, we've often liked to think that there's something kind of inherently decent about such little-known American towns. We call them the "heartland". Now, Cresaptown, Maryland will be known to all Americans. Cresaptown finally has someone who's become well known -- no, not famous, infamous. Poor Cresaptown will now be remembered as the home town of Private Lynndie England, who signed up to be all that she could be, and was sent by the U.S. government to torture Iraqi prisoners. Here she is, doing the work she was ordered to do, putting a dog leash on a naked prisoner, and willingly posing for a souvenir snapshot as she does so: ![]() Support the troops? Don't send them to war. Return to the Irregular Times Main Page
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