Tuesday, April 17, 2007

More Perspective

Today is 17 April 2007.

With all due respect to NET, which respect is without limits, and the comment on “Perspective” yesterday.

I can’t give it a rest.


“Leaflet drops will be made north of US lines banning the people not to proceed south, that they risk being fired upon if they do so. If refugees do appear from north of US lines they will receive warning shots, and if they then persist in advancing they will be shot.”

Letter from Ambassador to South Korea John J. Muccio, to Assistant Secretary of State Dean Rusk, 26 July 1950, regarding the Rules of Engagement.

One can understand the level of fear that Ambassador Muccio, and others, safe behind the lines, experienced when North Korea invaded South Korea. After all, they weren’t on the front lines, they were in position to be whisked away to safety, and so one can understand their level of panic, seeing they were never in mortal danger.

Perhaps they believed that American troops needed to kill refugees, since some of same, of course, could be Commie infiltrators, and the ends justify the means.

HH hates nations and nationalism. Yes, I was born, raised, and have always lived in the USA/USE, for good and ill. The point for me is that this nation I’m part of is just as good and as vile as all the others.

I live here, I partake of the evils and advantages, and so all the responsibility falls upon my head, for good and ill.

Many the time I’ve thought of going into exile, but this is my home, my responsibility, and I can’t run away from it. I try my paltry efforts to turn the tide around, but I'm obviously not good enough for that.

“We’re” just as bad as all the others.

Doesn't please me to recognize facts like that.

There’s a bright red line, nay, a thread, nay, a river, a tidal wave, of violence running through American history, just as Athens, Persia, Rome, Sparta, Egypt, Spain, England … “when will they ever learn, when will they ever learn?”.

The Museum of the Bourgeois offers the most profound empathy to all the loved ones of those dead yesterday, in Virginia and Baghdad, and everywhere else.

Every death or wound, to anyone, diminishes all of us.

How we prepare positive responses to such facts, so as to heal all wounds ... what I've been trying to figure out my entire life.

Not so much progress yet, but ... so it goes.


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