War has two opposing sides, yes? No, the allies arrive each with their own agenda. So while Black may be playing on the Chessboard of the world, blowing up hospitals with citizens in them; black is being infiltrated by gray, mauve and even a touch of purple. As we go about our daily lives, usually far away from the war zone for most of us; what does it all mean?
Definitely, more pollution for us and the earth. We are in a sense “blowing ourselves up.”
If I witness horror even by the web or television, what does it do to my soul? If I witness horror that there is very little I can do about it (call the White House, write a Senator, join a protest group – all of which I have done since the invasion of Iraq); how does it affect me?
When an American soldier is killed, do I pause to reflect the heartache of the family? Do I think about the lost potential and wonder what he could have added to all our lives if he had remained a productive citizen, a father, a son?
We blow things up when we make war. We lose art, landmarks, the works of the hands of people from long ago are lost to us. We can show a photograph; then, we say, it is only an image, it is no longer. We kill people. We kill children in guerrilla warfare. If we kill enough people, will the war stop? How many people is enough? How many children are enough? When does the blood spill reach critical mass? When do we pay as much attention as we do to photographs of kittens, presidential debates and planting flowers in the spring?
When will the next round of protests begin in earnest. Instead of moveon.org or Occupied or tea party, will there be millions in the streets and then if enough people are arrested, then, will it stop? Annihilation by our neighbors sounds ludicrous.