Not to sound like a three-year-old or anything, but the post-war events in Iraq have made me really sad. We are so good at killing people, but when it comes time for showing a little sensitivity and restraint, we keep telling brown guys to screw themselves. The ravaging of Iraq’s museums have basically done to Persia what the Great Fire at the Library of Alexandria did to early human philosophy: untimely ripp’d it out of existence. Civilians begged the Americans to park tanks in front of the museums, and again, we told them to fuck off. For a relentless archivist like me, it’s personally horrifying but to archaeologists and paleoanthropologists, it’s a lifetime-crushing disaster.
When I was at dinner with Christopher Reeve last year (stroke of luck, read it about it here) we talked about how we shouldn’t consider the Dark Ages so remote, because we’re living in them now. There are hints of the New Mercilessness everywhere you turn; the Bush Administration takes a cue from the hip-hop and rap world (or is it the other way around?) by basically calling all who question them a bunch of “player haters.” We win, says Bush, I win, says P. Diddy any problems you gots with me are sour grapes. Don’t like the way I wear my rocks? Don’t like the way I treat Iraq? FUCK you.
I try to emulate The Budster and just keep my side of the street clean; recycle, try to drive a hybrid, give money and time to the right places, you know, but in the end, I’m still so terribly sad.
We had a seder tonight, and even though I’m not Jewish, I respect the constant questioning involved, even on holy days such as Passover. The leader of the dinner asks four questions of the children present, and the mere act of asking separates Judaism from the fettered, hostile dogma of Christianity. A Christian seder would have wouldn’t have Four Questions for the kids, it would have Four Demands, and the kids would be stuck at a card table in another room eating the dark meat.
As for me, I have four seder questions for the Christians currently running our government:
Why makes you so different from any other?
Why do you dip your enemies in bitter bloodshed?
Why are your ideas so unleavened?
Why, when the rest of the world cries out, do you recline?
Yeah, sounds like bad lesbian Jewish poetry. Maybe I should rethink that one.