Peacemongering

The Iraq War turns ten today. The heaviness of that sentence does not escape me. I never supported it.

Ten years ago, I lived on the Mendocino Coast with the man and my two then school-age daughters. My memories of that phase of our lives are fairly bleak. The man was struggling with some mid-life issues, mostly with his family of origin. He was depressed and I felt helpless to help him. I wondered whether our relationship would survive those harsh days. Thankfully, it did. He went through his own personal hell, and came out of it stronger and much wiser. His issues with his family were worked out, and he enjoyed a renewed relationship with his dad. Which I am so grateful for, since his father died just six years or so later.

We both worked full-time--he at the local brewery, me at the local coffee company. We lived next to the harbor, where we could smell the sea and hear sea lions barking. That region is one of the last bastions of raw, rugged beauty left in California, and we were thrilled to have moved there from the central Sierras about a year and a half earlier. My daughters were 10 and 16, had good friends, and a supportive, loving family.

The man and I were still disgusted that Bush II had slithered into office, and was now beating the drums of war. Because, he told us, we had to keep America safe from more attacks like on 9/11.
Even though Saddam and Iraq were not responsible for that day, nor did they possess the capability to manufacture weapons of mass destruction, which we were led to believe. And which many DID believe, blindly.

The mood at home during that period was increasingly somber,
and we adults felt voiceless and powerless as we continued to express our disagreement with the now inevitable invasion of Iraq. At work, we were both surprisingly outnumbered by those who thought we had no other alternative, and the anti-war protests in our town were matched by very vocal, very redneck-ish groups of war supporters. Even my own father, a lifelong progressive democrat and pacifist, was reluctant to voice any dissent. He just wasn't sure it was wrong. Yet.

But it was wrong, and it is still wrong. Millions of people's lives have been and will continue to be impacted in countless ways, mostly of the horrific variety. We apparently have learned nothing from the Vietnam war... Which my hero, Rachel Maddow
reported on last night. It seems that some L.B.J. audio tapes have surfaced, from the Thursday before the 1968 presidential election. The year that Dick Nixon beat Hubert Humphrey by a narrow margin. President Johnson was very close to a peace treaty with Vietnam. In fact, he even made a speech to the American public that an end to the war was within reach. Days within reach, even. Tricky Dick managed to back burner the democrats plan to end the war, since that would have almost certainly spelled defeat for republicans, if the democrats stopped the war. He said that we should hold off and let him take office first, and then he could stop the Vietnam war in a more practical manner. Nixon won that year, and the war we could have ended went on for five more years. All in the name of political victory.. How many additional lives were lost or otherwise decimated during that five year span?


I'm tired of war, and war profiteering, and increasing numbers of young people coming home destroyed by this illegal war. Even if they were lucky enough to come home alive, and not lose limbs, they are too often seriously damaged... With not enough support here to recover from all manner of PTSD. These soldiers will be our police, firefighters, and school bus drivers in the near future.
Even though they could have unchecked serious emotional and mental health issues. I find that worrisome-and tragic.


So, forgive me for not patting myself on the back today. I never wanted this war or the war in Afghanistan to begin with. I believe strongly in the power of peace, still. And always will.

Hubris

Main Entry: hu·bris
Pronunciation: \ˈhyü-brəs\
Function: noun
Etymology: Greek hybris
Date: 1884
: exaggerated pride or self-confidence
— hu·bris·tic \hyü-ˈbris-tik\ adjective

We are watching a stunning documentary by that name on MSNBC. All about the reasoning (or lack thereof) that led this country into the nine-year war in Iraq. Narrated by Rachel Maddow, it promises to be fascinating... In a monumentally sad, "I told you so" sort of way.

It's been raining here for days. The gulches are roaring and the catchment tank is spilling over. So, although weed pulling isn't optimum, I've been canning like mad. Yesterday's batch was local Rangpur lime and ginger marmalade. (Rangpur limes are orange.)

No One Wins

War Of Man - Neil Young

Make Art Not War

Here is another of my son's girlfriend's paintings. It's called "Something Amiss'.

Quest to Burn

Sunday Confessional:
I've wanted to go to B u r n i n g M a n for at least 20 years. I remember when it all began, at Baker Beach. One teeny speed bump has been that the man I share my life with does not share in my great quest to burn. Especially because it means massive crowds and the cruel Nevada desert. He'd be perfectly fine if I went without him. He knows how much it means to me, whether he comprehends my vision or not. Most of my formerly adventurous friends are wrapped up in their day-to-day. They wouldn't be likely to consider this sort of pilgrimage. I am also wrapped-up. Doesn't matter. I must participate in this powerful human experiment at least once before I slip into darkness. The playa is mercilessly hot. There are windstorms. It's a week of dirt camping with thousands of crazies. It isn't hard to understand why many I know and love would take a pass. I can't. And now that my children are nearly full-grown, it feels like the perfect time to go.

One of my all-time favorite gal pals from Santa Cruz attends, so I am 'in talks' with her about being part of her crew in 2009. It takes (at least) a year to plan it right. One must be fit, both physically and emotionally. No small undertaking, this quest of mine. I'm game.

'When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.'
Hunter S. Thompson

Forty Years On...

Martin Luther King Jr.

Are we there yet?

Public Service

Listen, I don't particularly like looking at his mug on my blog anymore than you do. I consider it my duty as a citizen and a blogger to remind people who the republican nominee is. Often, until the general election. There~you've been forewarned. Apologies in advance if the images upset or repulse you. They should.

Dear John Letter

photo: Aiko Jim


Imagine Peace

Below is a letter to John Lennon, from Yoko Ono. The link above will take you to it's source. I respectfully request that you refrain from any oh-so typical Yoko-bashing. Not today. Because twenty-seven years ago today, everyone lost John.

December 8, 2007

I miss you, John. 27 years later, I still wish I could turn back the clock to the Summer of 1980. I remember everything - sharing our morning coffee, walking in the park together on a beautiful day, and seeing your hand stretched to mine - holding it, reassuring me that I shouldn't worry about anything because our life was good.

I had no idea that life was about to teach me the toughest lesson of all. I learned the intense pain of losing a loved one suddenly, without warning, and without having the time for a final hug and the chance to say, "I love you," for the last time. The pain and shock of that sudden loss is with me every moment of every day. When I touched John's side of our bed on the night of December 8th, 1980, I realized that it was still warm. That moment has haunted me for the past 27 years - and will stay with me forever.

Even harder for me is watching what was taken away from our beautiful boy, Sean.
He lives in silent anger over not having his Dad, whom he loved so much, around to share his life with. I know we are not alone. Our pain is one shared by many other families who are suffering as the victims of senseless violence. This pain has to stop.

Let's not waste the lives of those we have lost. Let's, together, make the world a place of love and joy and not a place of fear and anger. This day of John's passing has become more and more important for so many people around the world as the day to remember his message of Peace and Love and to do what each of us can to work on healing this planet we cherish.

Let's: Think Peace, Act Peace, and Spread Peace. John worked for it all his life.
He said, "there's no problem, only solutions." Remember, we are all together.
We can do it, we must. I love you!

Yoko Ono Lennon


*Postscript:
Here's what I wrote about my spooky-weird connection to that fateful day, in 2005.

Every Picture Tells A Story, Don't It?

Code Pink protester Desiree Farooz confronts Condoleeza Rice with blood-stained hands, calling the Secretary of State a war criminal who should be tried at the Hague.

Rep. Pete Stark's Cojones

From the House debate on the override vote on Bush's veto of SCHIP, Rep. Pete Stark kicks Bush's ass:

"First of all, I'm just amazed they can't figure out, the Republicans are worried we can't pay for insuring an additional 10 million children. They sure don't care about finding $200 billion to fight the illegal war in Iraq. Where ya gonna get that money? You going to tell us lies like you're telling us today? Is that how you're going to fund the war? You don't have money to fund the war or children. But you're going to spend it to blow up innocent people if we can get enough kids to grow old enough for you to send to Iraq to get their heads blown off for the President's amusement. This bill would provide healthcare for 10 million children and unlike the President's own kids, these children can't see a doctor or receive necessary care. [...]

But President Bush's statements about children's health shouldn't be taken any more seriously than his lies about the war in Iraq. The truth is that Bush just likes to blow things up. In Iraq, in the United States and in Congress."

(Daily Kos)

Grandpa The Ghost

(Click it to enlarge it.)

This is the Veteran's Grave Registration of my Mother's father. Since my mother was five years old when he "died of disease", I knew very little of this man. Nobody said much, ever. There were framed photographs in Grandma's house. All I really ever knew about my maternal grandfather was that he was long-dead. Recently, I did a search for his name in a database. I found this. It meant something, to know even the slightest thing about his life and death. A soldier in the first world war. With a surviving brother I never knew about. That he died young. I never heard anyone in my family discuss the mysterious disease. It isn't a stretch to imagine that the time spent serving his country may have had something to do with an early demise. Poison Gas in World War I

Besides grandma and my mom, he left behind three other daughters and a baby boy in grandma's belly. After his death in 1934, my grandmother lived her life until 1983. Almost 50 years, never to remarry or even date anyone again. It was, after all, the Catholic way
As I have said before, I come from an impressive line of martyrs.

When will they ever learn?
(Marlene Dietrich sings "Where Have All The Flowers Gone?" in 1963. Who knew?)

helen thomas/ re: iraq

SHE IS INCREDIBLE!

synchronicity

i feel like a proud american tonight, for several reasons.

first, the preznit's approval rating is dropping by the day. unreal. the downing street memo has gone from a slow-burning internet scoop a couple of months back to a mainstream news story, complete with televised hearings on c-span. could it be that the ship of fools has sprung a leak at last? oh, hell yes!

sometimes one can feel like the lone dissenter. i often do. and i have definitely found that there are many who sidestep discussing political topics on their blogs.
that's cool. no problem, but i want to talk about it. it's a lonely job sometimes, but it feels right for me. and rosie is a near-daily inspiration, in that regard. she kicks ass! and plenty of her blog readers give her a bad time for continually bringing up the war and the president's lies. she never caves in to the pressure. she keeps telling us to do something, be informed, and to speak out against the madness. she does not have to be doing this. many advise her not to. she is doing what she must. i can relate to that.

coincidentally, my post here at the cozy shack last evening was related to my growing disdain for apathetic attitudes about politics, as well as the importance of aqquainting oneself with the downing street memo. when i read rosie's post today, i was proud that i stuck with my personal ideals, and that i sometimes speak of the shit that it would appear some shy away from. rosie does it too, and she brought up the dsm today! WE ARE HERE indeed, and we want the real truth about this war. the families of the 1700 dead soldiers deserve truth, at the very least.

oh, i will write about less politically-charged things here, sometimes. but right now, this is where my heart is. maybe it's because way-back-when, in 2000, i had a scary vision of a future with bush 2 in charge, and he has far exceeded my worst -case-scenario. the day he "won" the first time was such a low point. then there was 9/11, then his bullshit war, then his "re-election" i have lived almost a half-century. things have never felt this out-of-control. i hate to say i told you so, but...

so, although it's a little like the kiss of death in terms of blog popularity, i will continue to speak of the things that are not necessarily popular with people.
it makes me feel proud to be an american, when i speak my mind.

don't interrupt the sorrow

love is always there

even when happiness is absent

that's a good thing to keep in mind

i have decided to stop expecting happiness to be ever-present

i read somewhere today that americans are "in a bad mood" politically speaking

~his~ approval rating is at 43% now and i wonder-

how can there even be 43% of people still believing in this guy (anywhere?)

1,700 americans have died in this war (as of today)

the number of iraqi people killed is an ongoing mystery

but rest assured, it is monumental

these are the things that mess with my mind some days

and embracing the sorrow i feel seems like the least i can do

for the thousands who have lost their lives

in this war-with-no-clear-exit-strategy

that is why i have a sticker on my bumper that reads:

F U G W B

i never wanted to feel that way about my president

but alas, i most certainly do...






truth goes up in vapors
the steeples lean
winds of change patriarchs
snug in your bible belt dreams
god goes up the chimney
like childhood santa claus
the good slaves love the good book
a rebel loves a cause

(joni mitchell)