Tuesday, September 21, 2004

Images and empathy...

That's just it for me. In even hearing about another beheading, in seeing a seemingly calm, composed wife speaking on behalf of her husbands life, in knowing tens of thousands share my dismay- I still see in my mind's eye my own spouse.

And with that empathy comes anger. Bitter, caustic anger. How dare they? How dare they in the name of their god lay hands on another human being? How can they possibly believe that their god will reward them for these monstrous acts?

And, oh, the anger goes on. I feel it toward people here, even some of my own acquaintances, who refuse to hold the monsters with the machetes responsible.
They naively think that ignoring the problems in the middle east (or as I see it, allowing them to fester) will mean they can go on indefinately living their narrow, unrealistic lives uninterrupted.

Well guess what? We've been fucking interrupted. We've been fucking interrupted time and time again, but this last time we had people who realized it in the position to do something about it.

I'm with Veruka and A Small Victory. I don't need to see nor show the video or stills. I don't need to see my husband die in my mind's eye. And I don't need to see the sick, misled, fucks who did it until I see them in their graves.

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