Imagine yourself shooting a complete stranger. Someone you don't know, and someone who doesn't know you. Bang. He dies.
Another stranger pops up immediately. You shoot her. Bang.
Another one. Bang. Another one. Bang. Your magically-reloading gun fires once every second. Bang. And it goes on for hours and hours. You find you don't need to sleep: you just stand there, wide eyed and unthinking, your trigger finger contracting once a second, every second, day and night.
On the evening of Day Twelve, you receive a progress report.
You're not done yet.
Welcome to George W. Bush's Iraq.
Another stranger pops up immediately. You shoot her. Bang.
Another one. Bang. Another one. Bang. Your magically-reloading gun fires once every second. Bang. And it goes on for hours and hours. You find you don't need to sleep: you just stand there, wide eyed and unthinking, your trigger finger contracting once a second, every second, day and night.
On the evening of Day Twelve, you receive a progress report.
You're not done yet.
Welcome to George W. Bush's Iraq.
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