I love the Marines. And apparently the Marines 
                  love me too. But frankly, our guys in the Corps are currently 
                  living life in a fairy tale. Which fairy tale? Cinderella. Think 
                  about it.
                Here's Cinderella. She used to be the treasured 
                  offspring of an honorable man. And now she's just a scullery 
                  maid and a drudge for her wicked stepmother. And if Cinderella 
                  represents the Marines in this fairy tale, then who does 
                  the wicked stepmother represent?  We all know who - and if we 
                  don't, then we should. Oh, okay. I'll spell it out for you. 
                  She represents the Bush-McCain clone's boss - that wicked fake 
                  evil globalized corporate “mother” who tries to pretend that 
                  she has our best interests at heart but who in reality has 
                  taken over our home and kicked us out in the cold.
                 So. 
                  How did I get on this Marines-as-Cinderella kick? Here's the 
                  story. Some very persistent lady who is the mother of two Marines 
                  in Iraq kept writing me and writing me about some 
                  incident in Afghanistan 
                  that two Marine officers are being court-martialed for - and 
                  something she wrote stayed with me. “The Marines are now 
                  doing the job of occupation that they were never meant to do.” 
                  Scullery work! No grand balls at the castle for them. No glass 
                  slippers. Their job now is to just go around and clean up behind 
                  the messes created by the wicked stepmother. Cinderellas. Our 
                  brave and historic Marines have just become Cinderellas.
So. 
                  How did I get on this Marines-as-Cinderella kick? Here's the 
                  story. Some very persistent lady who is the mother of two Marines 
                  in Iraq kept writing me and writing me about some 
                  incident in Afghanistan 
                  that two Marine officers are being court-martialed for - and 
                  something she wrote stayed with me. “The Marines are now 
                  doing the job of occupation that they were never meant to do.” 
                  Scullery work! No grand balls at the castle for them. No glass 
                  slippers. Their job now is to just go around and clean up behind 
                  the messes created by the wicked stepmother. Cinderellas. Our 
                  brave and historic Marines have just become Cinderellas.
                The Marine mom who e-mailed me the other day 
                  passionately pleaded with me to DO something to help the Marines. 
                  What does she expect me to do? Produce a glass slipper or something? 
                  Find a handsome young prince? Oh, okay. I'll try.
                
                “Once upon a time, America had a fine fighting force called the Marines. 
                  They would fight our country's battles in the air, on land and 
                  sea. Only somehow the strong and honorable fathers of our country 
                  - from George Washington to John Kennedy - all died out suddenly 
                  and the poor Marines were left as orphans, doomed to do the 
                  bidding of their wicked stepmother.” 
                As they say in the movie, “Night and day, it's 
                  Cinderella....” You all know that song.
                “Now this wicked stepmother didn't care a fig 
                  about America and all that 
                  it used to stand for and she forced the Marines to live in the 
                  attic and perform menial chores. And the wicked stepmother degraded 
                  Cinderella, er, I mean, the Marines.”
                The Few? The Proud? Now they are out washing 
                  the WSM's dirty laundry.
                “But Jane,” you might say, “every fairy tale 
                  has a happy ending.  So where is the happy ending here?”
                Where indeed?
                PS: “As a humanist, a spiritual person and a 
                  peace activist, how can you possibly defend the Marines,” someone 
                  asked me recently. “They are nothing but killers and attack 
                  dogs.”
                Yep. They ARE killers and attack dogs. That's 
                  them. But they are OUR killers and attack dogs. And after all 
                  the things that the Marines have done for us, it's the least 
                  we can do to rescue our Marines in return - to take them back 
                  from the globalization corporate boa constrictor that is 
                  swallowing them all up.
                
                There have been several times in the past when 
                  Americans needed killers and attack dogs like the Marines - 
                  to defend our freedom. And there probably will be times in the 
                  future when we will need them again. But if we continue to let 
                  that wicked stepmother known as globalization shamelessly 
                  use and abuse our Marines and force them to run her various 
                  extortion racket errands for her all around the world, then 
                  when the time comes when we really do need to call on our 
                  Marines to help us here on our very shores, THEY WILL NOT 
                  BE THERE. Where will they be? Up in the attic, worn out from 
                  doing all the globalization mafia's menial chores.
                BlackCommentator.com Columnist, 
                  Jane Stillwate,r is a freelance writer, civil rights and peace 
                  activist from Berkeley, 
                  California. She is also the author of Bring Your Own Flak Jacket: Helpful Tips for Touring Today’s Middle 
                  East. Click 
                  here to contact Ms. Stillwater.
                