Current Mood: frustrated
Do You Care? Do I Care?
“Join thousands in LA on March 18 to protest the war on Iraq on the 3rd Anniversary of the US Invasion”
Thousands might be right, but frankly I’ve seen more people waiting to get into Disneyland.
I went to the rally. I took photos. I thought the signs had snap and bite – “Lie-ability – Impeach Bush”
I walked the parade route to see if there were throngs anywhere else, but sadly just tourists outside Graumann’s Chinese getting the photos taken with Mr. Incredible, Chewbacca, Darth Vader and Supergirl.
Then I headed home.
I didn’t step up to carry a coffin in the parade.
I didn’t spend any money at the bumper sticker table.
I didn’t … engage the activity. I passively observed, wrote down some notes, took some photos… and fled.
I don’t support our troops when they abuse local people they’re supposed to be ‘liberating’. I don’t support a bunch of white, rich, hypocritical fucks in the highest level of government who tell us lies, just so we react the way we’ve been programmed. I think that the rich history of America being the good guy has crashed into the ground quite like flight 93 did on September 11th.
I’m ashamed that all I do is think these things. I don’t act – at all. I had a bumper sticker on my Amigo – Bush Lies – Soldiers Die. I got into exactly one discussion over that sticker. Three years – maybe three serious “let me change the way you think” discussions. We are a horrible country at the moment, and quite frankly, we deserve what we have.
This war doesn’t impact me in any direct way – it’s all … ephemeral. 19 year old American boys are dying every day – every single day, for a war that we went into because we were lied to. We have no leaders who are demanding justice for the atrocities; hell, the best I’ve heard is “my step-son…” by a rabid Cuban/Floridian republican who seemed to actually believe that what we’re doing over there is the right thing. I can only hope her soulless body was on auto-response as she puked the party line. (Last night’s Real Time with Bill Maher was where I watched her perform)
But back to here – back to now – back to me.
Why the fuck am I sitting here? Typing… Why am I not walking the parade, as it gets warmer, with the discomfort of a pine box on my shoulder? Why did I think that the flag-wrapped coffin, on the ground, wasn’t respectful to the flag? Why did I hope for Consolidated to show up and make me act.
I am against this war. I was against the last ‘war for oil’ – and by the time I actually realized I’d say no to a phone call to return to the service of my country, we had finished what we started – the liberation of Kuwait. In return, Kuwait decided that families should only have 3 slaves, instead of the many they had before Iraq invaded. Supporting the democracy of the world, that’s what the US does…
“Bumper stickers are pretentious – oversimplified slogans in a pre-digested world”
says boo… “I don’t like them”
The beautiful people are not protesting…
And so … after a bit of discussion… we … do … not … anything … much.
Let’s see – college basketball on 2, PGA golf on 4, Sabrina, the animated series on 5, Sonidos on 7 and Paid Programming on 9. Pet Keeping with Marc Monroe on 11 and Unspeakable on 13 round out our local channels at 1:32 this Saturday afternoon.
Meanwhile, three blocks away, marching. Protesting. Exercising our constitutionally guaranteed rights to free speech and free congregation.
I hear the helicopter up there – I suspect it’s just the LAPD enforcement campaign.
Older ‘hippy’ peeps, punks with spiked mohawks and anti-war sloganed vests. Lots and lots of bicycle cops (pacific blue!) Lots of photogs, and everyone had a digicam – the wonders of the 21st century, eh? Looking at the snapshots I took, a lot of women are out there.
And so now I’ll push the photos, maybe make some witty captions… and finish my apple pie (nothing says protest against the stupid gov’t like apple pie!) while watching the Sebring 12 hour endurance race on Speed.
Eddie swung by to say “hey, I’d thought you’d be at the protest”… we chatted about the lack of people, the immense traffic damage, the joys of Hollywood in general.
Why am I not out there, protesting? What’s up with my inaction?
and now, an hour or so later, I’m … less upset at myself, at my pathetic-ness… because that’s life? That’s how it goes on and on? I remember my fear from the first gulf war… not a personal fear for my limbs, but a moral fear that I’d support something nefarious. And now? Now… it’s just – laziness. Apathy. The month or so after September 11th I was all sorts of confused, but the outpouring of humanity brought me a bit of comfort. How on earth would we get over what had happened to us? Turns out it’s just time, that’s the healing agent… how sad.
dona nobis pacem
for Zachary, Alyssa, and Roan