They are men of small stature. Not meaning short in height, nor slight in frame – just small, diminutive, easily lost in the shadows – easily overlooked.

They are men of little virtue. They espouse good Christian values when it is socially expected, or politically expedient. But in the night, they slink and slither, and blend into the dankness of decay – easily invisible.

They are men of legalities. They hold themselves out as ethical followers of the letters of the law. But they search for the loophole, the technicality that will exonerate them, the route by which they can circumvent true justice – easily immune.

They are men of insignificance. That is why they must wield the power of pain – always someone else’s, never theirs. They enjoy the suffering, because they are cowards, because they are impotent and flaccid – easily dismissed.

They are men of incompetence. Their only talent is getting the job done, the “job” invariably being something so totally abhorrent, men of ambition and a sense of their dollar worth wash their hands of it, Pilate-like, early in the game – easily blameless.

They are all the same. They are torturers.

They are high and low, they are politicians and pencil-pushers, they are surveyors and purveyors, they are fast-talking ad men and smooth-talking madmen, they are professional excuse-makers and amateur finger-pointers, and all-around, get ‘em while they’re hot, totally fucked-up, disgrace-to-the-human-race, barbarians.

They are all the same. They are torturers.

To all of you torturers out there who this may reach, be of good cheer. You may yet escape the rightful punishment that you so richly deserve. But if you have one scintilla of humanity left within you, the guilt, the shame, the moral emptiness you live with every day is a far worse punishment than we, your fellow citizens, could ever mete out.

Here’s the deal. If you can’t/won’t confess your actions publicly as a crime against everything we, the American People, stand for and aspire to, confess to your own family. Explain, in vivid detail, what you did, ordered, approved, signed-off on, did the paperwork for and/or turned a blind eye to to your idealistic teen-aged son, or your sweet-and-innocent grand-daughter.

Look in their eyes as you make you excuses, as you describe the torment you helped inflict on someone’s child, someone’s parent, someone’s neighbor, someone’s best friend.

Watch them closely – they will judge you, and you will be devastated by their verdict. And their disgust is, for you, a life sentence.

Hope your participation seems worthwhile now.

Torturer.