Monday, November 16, 2015


Forgive me for any repetition...

But I have officially reached the point in my life where I don't know what to do. Had I been born ten or fifteen years later, I might still have some fight left.

As it stands, I simply have no idea what to suggest to address, nor reasons why people decide that wanton violence will achieve their aims.

Or maybe it's just too close right now.

My point of view on "terrorism" has been that if you get all these people willing to commit suicide in order to strike out at seemingly larger groups political and economic power, they would suddenly stop being so willing to strap on explosives with dead man's triggers...

And I imagine, if I take enough deep breaths, I would say the same about whoever is involved in these most recent attacks...

But there's something about it that seems too burdensome to ponder. Much like 9/11, I am avoiding news sources because I assume I am going to hear more about it.

And hear more about all of the ridiculous posturing that will take place in its name that really has nothing to do with it.

I will begin to think that the political prattling is all show, subterfuge and manipulation,

but I then start thinking that maybe the people responsible for the deceit actually believe it...and I can't tell which prospect is more dire.

But I have reached that point in my life where I realize why my parent's generation tended to not feel like dealing with it when I was younger,

because I just don't feel like dealing with it now.

Remind me to say something later about the lingering effects of global colonialism and the difference between Buddhist immolation and radical middle eastern self-detonation.


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