How about Stanford and the NYT... http://wais.stanford.edu/Iraq/iraq_deathsundersaddamhussein42503.html http://www.nytimes.com/2003/01/26/weekinreview/the-world-how-many-people-has-hussein-killed.html
If the number of civilians killed per day is much lower in Iraq in the post-Saddam era than during Saddam's rule then obviously aren't things better.
Who exactly is 'we'? What civilians, for example, did 'we' kill? You are a nuisance enough on an internet forum, that I highly doubt I ever met you in real life, much less did we go out and kill any 'civilians' together. You are a loser, and I find it difficult to believe that I could be grouped with you in any way, shape, or form.
This young female journalist best expresses my sentiments: https://ricochet.com/terrorist-attack-charlie-hebdo-killers-still-large/ The islamofascists fancy themselves to be ruthless killers. They think the west is soft, degenerate and weak. I know otherwise. In the history of mankind there has been a lot of killing. In that history there is one particular group who has killed more than any other group by far and has done so with a special kind of efficiency. Caucasians. We are the people of the ice. The survivors of the ice-age. Nobody is more capable of killing on an industrial scale when adequately provoked. All of us are no more than 10 generations removed from it. It is not something to be proud of but it is a fact. Go ahead haji, poke the real barbarians with a sharp stick some more and see what happens.
Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport passenger lounge in Bozeman, Montana, awaiting their flights. One is an American Indian passing through from Lame Deer. Another is a cowboy on his way to Billings for a livestock show, and the third passenger is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Montana State University from the Middle East. Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an uneasy lull. The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table, and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face. The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around, and the old windsock is flapping, but still no plane comes. Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he speaks, "At one time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are few." The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, "Once my people were few," he sneers, "and now we are many. Why do you suppose that is?" The Montana cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a drawl, "That's 'cause we ain't played cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it's a-comin."
I'm not fat. Just American. It's just the body armor and weaponry. Don't piss me off or I will show up in your home town and take care of business.