Just gathering thoughts is a

March 21, 2003

Just gathering thoughts is a tough enough task. Making sense of anything seems impossible. At some point the bombardment of negative information will pierce a hole in all hope. I haven’t lost hope but that fragment that was working on making sure a war never started is as far gone as a tissue in a typhoon. I don’t remember a time when war didn’t mean doomsday was imminent. There was a chance that each war could be the world’s last. WW2 was a romantic war with classic characters playing good and evil. It came with a “just cause” that was objective. Nobody ever dwelt on the pictures of dead bodies or the weeping homeless. We assembled scale models of P-51 Mustangs, played with G.I. Joes and watched “Hogan’s Heroes”. Those bumbling Nazi’s sure were hilarious prime time entertainment. Our parents laughed along with us and that fostered the idea that, except for a moment of silence on Remembrance Day, it could all go back to normal. As a teenager you discovered the more grisly photos and, as the whole picture took shape, your respect for the trauma’s of previous generations grew. You lived the moment. The “playing guns” eased off for me pretty quickly but I know other boys who held onto the Hollywood war. I see them on TV. I see them rise to power. I never see them with real blood on their hands. They keep the same distance from the flying bone and flesh of babies that the producers of “Sgt. Bilko” did. It all happens somewhere far away and we can watch it on our TVs. The makers of body count video games don’t live in fear in South Central LA or Johannesburg. If they do they are the ones with the walled compounds. The moguls who made all the hijacking and slasher movies have gathered all the evidence that life never imitates art. Cigarette company PR men probably only smoke during the press conference. Information is plucked from the tree and carved up for easy digestion. It can be used in any recipe. It can pad you shelter and build your nest. The same sentence can serve two sides of any argument. So many words with so few questions.
I watched some footage of Donald Rumsfeld shaking hands with Saddam Hussein at a diplomatic stroking some years ago. At that time the same words could describe Hussein as are used now. What words did he choose then? If he met him face to face right now would he try to kill him with his bare hands? Would he leap across the banquet table to poke out his eyes with a salad fork? Would he smile, do nothing, eat dinner, go home, make a phone call to command central, open a bottle of red wine, turn on the TV and watch the missile (he just asked to be launched) fall in a tiny orange arc into Hussein’s bedroom? Where is the coldest heart? If you owe a hundred dollars to a friend it weighs on your mind. If you owe $200,000 to the bank it can be forgotten much more easily. I’m thinking of those on the killing floor of the slaughterhouse right now. I hope they’ll be all right when the reasons for all this remain in question long after its all over. As soon as there is a question of “just cause” they will be the victims. They will be abandoned and betrayed by those who drank wine, watched television and made chilling phone calls.