The Department Store
Sailing out the American People one peace at a time.
Comparing Trump’s “plan” for Chicago to Apocalypse Now is not the flex he thinks it is. That film is not about restoring order. It is about the U.S. military losing its mind, torching villages, and spiraling into chaos. Saying you want to run a U.S. city like Vietnam in 1969 is admitting you want brutality, not peace.
Order is not built through fire. It is burned away by it.
“But Ink, it is what they want.”
Not so much. They do not want war to get out of hand on their end. “I love the smell of napalm in the morning” gets tossed around like a badass motto, but that is all they want from the imagery: to look hard, to look untouchable. Vietnam was the perfect example of how out of touch this whole crew is with reality. They will blast “Fortunate Son” without realizing they are the exact people that song is tearing apart, the ones who treat war like a glorious achievement instead of the horror show it was.
When kids aged eighteen to twenty-five were drafted into Vietnam, most had no idea what they were walking into. When they watched their friends bleed out in the mud, the last word out of their mouths was often “Mom.” They were not heroes in a movie. They were terrified kids calling for their mothers. Glorifying that is sick.
The truth is these men do not want war. They want the performance of war. They want you to fear chaos and believe they are the ones who can control it. But the chaos they create is never theirs to carry. They hand it to the “unfortunate sons,” the ones without a doctor’s note, without a rich father to pull strings. They strap a helmet on them, push them into the same streets they grew up in, and call it patriotism.
"Why don't Presidents fight the war? Why do they always send the poor?"