I slept in this morning, got up, had a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of orange juice, and read about the probability that we’ll go to war with Iran.
The document [“America’s National Security Strategy”], published yesterday, reasserts the right to pre-emptive strikes as a means of self-defence should the union deem itself liable to devastating attack by weapons of mass destruction. This reflects Washington’s view of Iran as a threat not just to Israel and Iraq, but also to America itself, a perception inadequately understood on this side of the Atlantic.
The skies are clear here and the sun is shining, I think I’ll put the computer away and go for a walk, do a little lab work and tidy up my office. No worries here…it’s just another quiet Saturday. We’re going to watch a play this evening.
Say, do you remember—I think it was only a few years ago—when we watched with horror and fascination as our military bombed Baghdad and our tanks rolled across the Iraq? We were assured our smart bombs would make this a clean war that would only help the Iraqi people, and our pundits crowed about our easy victory. I felt rage and pity, I was on the streets with a sign protesting, I wrote to my representatives and complained and cajoled and threatened. I howled in fury at the futile waste of lives and money, the jingoism, the injustice.
So today I’m going for a pleasant walk.
Does anyone care anymore?
This is how the monsters win, you know. They launch horror after horror, and as long as we have our electricity and orange juice and the quiet comforts of our homes, after a while we stop flinching, we just sit benumbed, we tell ourselves, “I’ll rouse myself for the next really big one,” and we remind ourselves that we couldn’t stop the last war, so how can we be expected to stop the next one? We tell ourselves that the democratic way to stop this ongoing nightmare is to elect better leaders at the next election (always the next, it rarely seems to be this one), and then we vote for soft, rotten representatives who, with rare exceptions, simply surrender to the insanity.
So I’m going for a walk.
I’m a monster, too.