Skip to main content

A Moment of Respect

I was just as shocked as anybody to find out about the explosions in London. It hit me pretty close to home, though, because I've walked those streets and ridden on the buses and the tube. London felt like a second home to me while I lived there, and its always difficult to learn something disasterous has happened at home. It reminded me in a small way of the feeling I got when, in an extremely remote area of the Philippines where I was the only American for miles, I found out about 9/11.

It hurts me to see what hatred and intolerance can do. Man's capacity to destroy himself is a painful concept to see acted out at the cost of innocent lives. No doubt we will only see more violence in the years to come, for violence begets violence in a terrible cycle. I only pray the pain we feel at being attacked doesn't turn us into the very thing we are fighting. The last five years have given us new meaning to the word "tragic."

Comments

Anonymous said…
With all due respect, I wonder about your worrying that we turn into the "very thing we're fighting." London and the USA are vast gulfs away from the anonymous, brutal, surprise attacks targeting innocent victims that 21st Century terrorism is. Our greatest fear should be whether or not we can pull together as a country and world, defending striking this evil at the heart.
Matt Haws said…
I never meant to imply that the US or the UK are in danger of becoming terrorists, or that we should not try to protect ourselves from attack. I ask those who may have misunderstood to forgive me if that is the impression that I gave.

What I meant to say is simply this: the pain we feel at being attacked can turn to hatred, and we cannot give into hatred, or else we may defeat the terrorists but lose who we are. It is hatred that drives the terrorists to do what they do; hatred and a complete disregard for rule of law. We should not give into hatred and we should at all times and in all places uphold rule of law like the civilized nation we are. I am concerned by the growing number of Americans who think that we should wipe out Muslims, enact racial profiling, and ignore international and US laws and norms in our attempts to defend ourselves. We must be careful. The ends do not justify the means. We are not terrorists.

That's all I'm saying.
Anonymous said…
I don't want to belittle the grave nature of this posting, but if I could add something. We're dealing with people who live at a tribal level. The only way we're going to win is if we can show them that we're willing to go farther than they are. Syria stopped a Terrorist problem it had by destorying an entire city. Britiain stopped Terrorist insurgents when it was still a colonial power by dipping their bullets in pig fat which would mean any Muslim shot by a British gun would go to Hell, not heaven as he hoped by his sacrifice. Now, there's no way that America can do the first, and if America does the second, the uproar over the Guantanamo Bay Quran desecrations would be nothing compared to the uproar. So, in short, since we can't go farther in our kinder gentler world, we can't win. It'll be another Vietnam where since we're not playing to win, there's nothing left but losing.
Matt Haws said…
If you accept that the only way to win is to kill everybody who wants to do us harm, then yes we can't win.
Anonymous said…
Come on, the Bard. That simplisitic over-generalization is a cop out. You know that's not what I said or meant. I'm just stating the difficulties. Read "From Beirut to Lebanon" by Thomas Friedman, the New York Times Foreign Correspondent--a Liberal like you--and he states the same difficulties. You know, living in a highly conservative area for a liberal is a lot like being a hammer--soon everything looks like a nail, or every comment looks like a warmongering redneck's.
Matt Haws said…
I love you Janky
Anonymous said…
I was waiting to be disarmed like that! Back at ya.

Popular posts from this blog

I like Superman, but I love Clark Kent...

I like Superman, but I love Clark Kent. Though, despite the elaborate disguise Consisting of a single pair of bent, Simple specs, they're not two different guys But only one, still I said what I meant: I like Superman, but I love Clark Kent. I like Superman, but I love Clark Kent I guess because one of them's more like me And does not always get what he wants And struggles with our vulnerability. And does not by his perfection command The adoration of every woman and man But sits in the back, with nothing to say Just hoping that Lois Lane looks his way. She doesn't - her eyes are glued to the sky. Wake up, Lois! Can't you see the guy Waiting to love you with all of his might? He may not leap buildings, he may not fly, He may not see through you with x-ray eyes, He might need YOUR help, if that's alright, From time to time, when his mortal heart cries. He combs his hair neatly and fights through the crowd, Decides what to say, and rehearses out loud, He summons his ...

The Only Thing We Have to Fear...

It's October, which means not only do I get to start dipping into my nifty fall wardrobe but also that Halloween is upon us. I think its great that we devote specific holidays to various basic emotions of the human psyche. Halloween = fear, Valentine's day = love, Thanksgiving = gratitude, St. Patrick's Day = envy, and Christmas = greed. We're just missing wrath, lust, pride, sloth, gluttony, and inadequecy. Clearly, more holidays are necessary. But that's a subject for another day. We don't want to give Halloween less than its due. Because seriously, how cool is Halloween? Its way off the scale on the cool-o-meter. When else can you see even the most pious and sensible people indulging in a little of the supernatural and occult by dressing up their children as vampires, witches, or ghosts? Well, that's how it was back in my day anyway (which was soooooo long ago), but today kids dress up as Jedi, princesses, Harry Potter, or Spiderman. They are totally miss...

God Bless Us, Every One

Call me a Scrooge, but I've found that the last couple of years Christmas just hasn't carried the same sense of wonder and excitement it once did. When I was a kid, I was ready to pee my pants every day in December just thinking about the twenty-fifth, which crept closer so slowly that the month was always filled with blissfully tortuous anticipation. The sense of suspense, the agony of not knowing what the fantastically wrapped boxes contained, was only heightened by the lights, the music, the snow, and everything you knew meant it was Christmas time. Back then, my heart's desires cost about twenty bucks and, tragically, seemed both completely unobtainable and the key to my whole life's happiness. This was the season, then, when miracles of a very practical kind could happen; objects only admired on the shelf, or at a friend's, or in some abstract sense of obsession could literally become my own and wind up, eventually, in pieces somewhere in my closet. I like to c...