OK, let us persist in the notion that I am an American citizen. Let us persist in the notion that I am the citizen of a self-governing political commonwealth. Let us persist in the notion that I have a say -- and important and equal say -- in the operation of my government here and out in the world. Let us persist in the notion that, in America, the people rule. If we persist in these notions -- and, if we don't, what's the fking point, really? -- then there is only one question that I humbly ask of my government this week.

Please, if it's not too damn much trouble, can you tell me what's being done in my name?

That has been the essential plea of the citizen of a democratic political commonwealth for going on 70 years now, since the war powers and their attendant influence detached themselves from -- or were abandoned entirely by -- the constitutional authority in which they were supposed to reside. That was the plea that was answered, officially, by the incredibly brave Frank Church and his committee, and by the House Committee on Assassinations (the case of the murder of a president in broad daylight is still open, by the way). That was the plea that has been answered, unofficially, by Ron Ridenhour about My Lai, and by Sy Hersh about a lot of the things the Church committee opened up, and by those guys in Lebanon with the mimeograph machine concerning Iran-Contra, and by Bob Parry and so many others during the era of Reagan triumphalism, and by people like the invaluable Charlie Savage and Jane Mayer and others when the country lost its mind after 9/11, and, yes, by Jeremy Scahill and whoever he talks to, and, yes, by Bradley Manning and Edward Snowden, too.

Just tell me what is being done in my name.

I'm a big boy. I am not made of spun sugar. I know my country -- and therefore, since we are in an era in which the distinction between civilian and military casualties is as ephemeral as it was in Atlanta, or Dresden, or My Lai, me -- has enemies. I know that it is the obligation of my government to protect me from them. That is right there in the Preamble. Thing is, though, it comes after the requirements to form a more perfect union, establish justice, and ensure domestic tranquility. And it comes a fk of a long way after the most important three words of all.

"We, the people."

Is that a great comma or what?

Just tell me what is being done in my name.

I'm a big boy. I am not made of spun sugar. If you think you need to protect me by dropping drones on people half a world away, or by vacuuming up my personal data, then tell me precisely who is being killed in my name, and why, precisely, I need you to do what you are doing. I'm OK. I can take it.

I am goddamn sick and fking tired of self-government being run on automatic pilot -- of gangs of five, or eight, or 22, meeting in secret, wise old bone-worshippers, and deciding things that, a decade later, get murderous religious whack-jobs flying airplanes in to buildings. Because what gets decided in secret gets played out in public, always. (Recall the famous Doonesebury cartoon in which the two Cambodian peasants are asked about the "secret bombing" of their country. "It wasn't secret," one of them says. "I said, 'Look, here come the bombers.'") You people jack around with some people on the other side of the planet and, pretty soon, I'm picking pieces of a Starbucks out of my hair, if I'm lucky.

Just tell me what is being done in my name.

Tell me what is being done in my name and I can decide on the level of my own complicity. Tell me what is being done in my name and I can decide that I don't want to be complicit at all. Tell me what is being done in my name and I can be a citizen, in full, of a self-governing political commonwealth. That's your job. That's what those three words, and that great comma, are about. Don't tell me it's for my own good. I'm not 12. I know what is for my own good. Don't tell me to trust you. That ship sailed long ago. Goddammit, tell me.

Tell me what is being done in my name.

And I'll decide if it should continue or not.

Tell me what is being done in my name.

And I'll tell you if you should keep doing it or not.

I will govern and not be governed.

Tell me.

Just tell me.

Before someone else does, with a leak, or a bomb, or an airplane into a building.

Tell me what is being done in my name.

So I can be ready, when the time comes.

Charles P. Pierce Charles P Pierce is the author of four books, most recently Idiot America, and has been a working journalist since 1976.

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