Two weeks ago, the Berkeley City Council wrote a letter to the Marines recruiting in town asking them to leave. The letter went on to say that if they didn’t leave, they should consider themselves unwelcome intruders in the city. This letter has caused quite a bit of anger. And now the council talks about rescinding this letter, re-wording it, watering it down. This, too, has caused no small amount of anger.

The right-wing group Move America Forward (MAF) came into Berkeley early this morning and set up their flags. Code Pink showed up last night and set up theirs. And when the sun rose they yelled at each other across a police-lined MLK Blvd. Everything was boring until lunch when the high schoolers showed up with their signs and bullhorns and covered faces. They didn’t care what side of the street they were supposed to be on. They confront MAF and when the police—helmeted and carrying long batons—finally push them away, they simply move to the other flank. A couple of scuffles ensue, both sides are looking for trouble. It’s only noon. The council doesn’t meet until seven. It’ll be a long day.

MAF contends that Code Pink and the City of Berkeley are anti-troop, that they hate the marines and all the heroes serving in the United States military. But they’re actually protesting the war in Iraq. The war started by so many lies and re-assurances. The war that has nothing to do with terrorism or chemical weapons or heartless dictators. This cake-walk of a war spinning out of control is for oil. I’m reminded of the First Sergeant’s mantra in James Jones’ The Thin Red Line. “Property, property, all for property.” I can imagine a First Sergeant today marching over the shifting sands of Iraq chanting to himself, “Oil, oil, all for oil.”

A white truck with wheels taller than me and two American flags the size of king-sized sheets flying from its bed revs its V-8 engine and tears down the street. Two gallons we’ll never get back. One more teenager killed by a land-mine far from home. Fuck it. Kurt Vonnegut (who’s up in heaven now!) once wrote that we’re a nation of addicts. That we’re addicted to our big cars and jet planes and motor-boats and the cheap oil used to fuel them. And now, like any addict, we’ve resorted to violence and crime to secure our fix. Our quickly disappearing fix.

The United States spends more money on its military than any other country in the world. Indeed, our defense budget is bigger than most countries’ entire budget. And our military does more damage to the environment than many of our foulest factories. I was trained at Fort McClellan, AL. Fort McClellan was home to both the Military Police and Chemical Corps schools. Shortly after graduating, McClellan was shut down. The land was supposed to go back to the state of Alabama. But after several decades of training soldiers, tens of billions of rounds shot down range and into earthen berms, massive motor pools with oil soaked grounds, and huge areas of land saturated with dangerous chemicals, the federal government cannot give the land back. And even if they could, Alabama doesn’t want to touch it.

As the United States, China, Russia, and India—all nuclear powers, by the by—fight for the remaining oil, arable land and clean water, war will become much more frequent, much more brutal. But it’s sunny and warm here in Berkeley today and I’m going back to stand with Code Pink while I still can.