I started several blog topics today, but I just can’t. I know it may sound precious and silly, but after seeing pictures of those dead toddlers being carried out of the rubble of Qana today, I’ve had it. Go ahead, conservatives, make fun all you want. But I’m utterly heartsick over the way every piece of this Middle East mess has been conducted.
I imagine Lucy in all of those little children’s faces. There was a time when I could read a story like today’s, be suitably horrified for about five minutes, and move on. Those days are over.
New Yorkers, while cleaning up the charred remains of their compatriots downtown in late September 2001, were noticeably reticent about going to war, any war. We saw firsthand what happens, we were breathing the air, we were washing soot out from behind our ears for weeks. You’d think we were the ones crying out most for revenge, but all around us you saw people clamoring for peace.
I’ve had it. I’m going to join my brother Kent as a pacifist Quaker. Perhaps not a pure pacifist, but Pragmatic Pacifist (look it up if you’re interested). I know Israel has to defend itself and root out terrorists, but nobody will ever convince me – or any other sensitive living creature – that the only way to do it is through blowing 37 children to bits. Don’t anyone dare say that war has casualties, and they are regrettable. Fuck you in advance if this is you default setting. Your heart is diseased, and mine is damn near broken.