Mythless

Two Prisons and two warps in time On my way to Babi Yar I met a man from Abu Graib . He was like me, but not like me, he was thin, and so was I, he had no hope and neither did I. He was the man on the road from Abu Graib and I was coming through him to my own prison. I met a woman from Auschwitz on my way from Abu Graib , she was hungry and so was I, her child had died on the train, and she never made it to the gate to work and be free, she was from Auschwitz and so was I. I met a child from Uganda, he had no hands and his brother had a gun. He was a prisoner of himself and I was walking in front of his jail. We build so many jails, so many places to hide our crimes and our nightmares. We hide the truth and we hide from the truth, we are free and we are not. I met myself the other day, I was hanging a man by his thumbs in Guantanamo Bay, and I was being hung by my thumbs in Buenos Aires . The language can change, the meaning remains, the pain and the joy are mingled in the

Impeach, Hell no, Impale! Has the time come to apply some hair of the dog to the dog? Seems to me that George W has redefined the way we handle tricky situations , dangerous people and legal niceties. Could we possibly use his rules in his sandbox? Think about it, can we rendition George? Could we ship the bugger off to Syria and ask him, in a Syrian way, what really motivated his move into Iraq? Wouldn't you like to know how well he stands up under waterboarding , that wonderful non-torturing ride into near drowning? Is there any reason why we would have to tell Laura that her husband is lodged in a suite in Cuba? I'm sure that thousands of wives are wondering where their husbands have gone off to after a night out with the boys in the Northern Command. Would Dickie bird be happy as a cave dweller in Kabul when the bombers come on by? He could see for himself how all the Halliburton dollars are doing such a good job of protecting the population of his conquered land. Mayb

Great Moments in Recent History . It appears that the course of history can be changed when great people confront the realities brought on by crucial stresses and literally take over the roller coaster. We remember Yeltsin as the Parliament was being bombarded, and who can forget the lone man who stopped the Chinese tanks for a few moments? Or Jimmy Carter brokering a handshake between Egypt and Israel, the Sadat-Begin Kodak moment immortalized in the flash of Jimmy smile? Great moments picked up and run for significant yardage in our daily struggle against mediocrity, stupidity, venality, greed, graft and incompetence. Make no mistake, in the recent past there have been innumerable opportunities for great men to pick up the yards, opportunities for real people to make significant changes when faced with overwhelming opposition. But somehow we are letting these chances for greatness slip through our fingers. Somehow the national and international potential for immortality is falling i

An Open Question to The Christian Right and The Muslim Extremists I am in the process of trying to understand the great love people with religious backgrounds profess for their fellow human beings. The latest effort required some research because I am unable to understand why anyone would really care about those of us atheists who really do not accept the mythology that is so prevalent these days. I mean, why would you care if your neighbor does not believe that there is a great mythological beast out there that sees all, understands all, and has a record of being nasty? Surely an atheist is the least of your christian worries since he does not prevent you from either adoring the great mythological beast of your choice, or fighting the great mythological beasts your religion has created? Why do Muslims have strict rules that atheists must be killed? Something most christians obviously agree with? As an atheist, I am flattered that you take us so seriously, and have responded in suc

Living a mythless life. As we grow older we tend to gravitate in one of two directions in everything we do. The first is to reassert and conserve the old values, beliefs and thoughts we developed at an early age; the other is perversely the opposite as we dig deeper and deeper into unresolved questions that bedeviled our youth. In the first case, the assumption is that we have received all we need to know about a certain facet of our lives and are content to ride that information trail to our death. In my case, I find myself reliving the music of the sixties, and enjoying the feelings it brings much more than trying to wrap my head around new versions of old tunes, from classical to hard rock. The same applies to really enjoying mechanics on classic cars, or the simpler joys of a three speed bicycle. I am of an age when I mastered those skills a long time ago, and am now become the master of the art, transcending the skill into an art form. But the second mindset gives me no rest b

Was it the Uniform or your own personal failure? We now have 3,000 konfirmed killed in action (KKIA). We have 3,000 young men and women who went off to a war that only a handful of people wanted. We have 3,000 grieving mothers and fathers who are searching for answers to the question, why their child? Why did he or she have to die when so many did not? I have some questions of my own. What were you thinking, Moms and Dads of the KKIA when your child decided to become a soldier? Why did you ever let them go so far away from you to die in a meaningless incident in an innocent place invaded for no good reason? Mom, did that uniform mean so much to you? Did he or she really look that good in dress blues, or combat fatigues? Did the useless and meaningless medals for marksmanship, technical training or whatever else they bribed your child to get him to die, really mean so much that you willingly encouraged him to go? Dad, when you were in 'Nam, or Kuwait, or even Panama, did you