there is no love without compassion

Every now and then the world pauses, allowing a few sacred moments for me to reflect. Welcome to the first [in a long while] post that is not rushed by the bustle of my last-semester-almost-full-time-job-distracted-by-love life.

Still, not having had previous time to disperse these thoughts in increments, I fear that this will end up being a post full of color, but lacking cohesion.

[I'm sorry]

Again, on reading:

A few times I've mentioned this book that I am attempting to read, A Problem From Hell: America and the Age of Genocide. I am both intrigued and disgusted by the history I have avoided until now. Not only is my personal ignorance an intolerable realization, but also the testament that this book stands as. I feel so...let down by humanity.

Are we or are we not inherently good?

The Staff Sergeant will respond with an immediate and deliberate, "No." I dodge that answer in order to preserve my idealistic purpose, but I love that he challenges me to look at ideas from another side. Still, I can't help wanting to think that people are [usually] good by nature. All expectations aside, I have come to realize that not everyone aspires to make the world a better place.

[I should be hugging trees, right?]

I've only covered a small slice of the innumerable dilemmas now categorized as "genocide." One of the more inspiring/appalling situations to which I was enlightened was the Khmer Rouge regime that terrorized the Cambodian population throughout the mid-late 1970's. I just don't understand how this happens, how this is happening, elsewhere, right now, as I type, and we as Americans do little or nothing. A good portion of the populous doesn't even know what is happening in, say, Darfur. My mind lacks the ability to process so much apathy...

Backtracking to Cambodia: I was about half way through the chapter when, in one of those few seconds of free time, I happened across a blog post addressing the exact thing I was losing myself in every time I opened the book's pages. This Khmer Rouge phenomenon was severely disturbing to say the very least, so I dove into the depths of Micheal Yon's account, "No Darker Heart" with hopes of seeing yet another perspective. I devoured it, relished the words, fell in love with the articulation and lusted after his experience. I wanted to see the place where he stood, where the rain surfaced scraps of clothing, unearthed irrefutable truths. I wanted to be a voice like his, to be a bridge for those who don't know, to rid the world of naivety and preferrable darkness.

We can't close our eyes, lest the machine is perpetuated and grows more precise, more able, more hungry. If we don't talk about Darfur, the babies still starve, the innocent are still raped and tortured. The families are still displaced, still left with nothing but the memory of life before. We can't close our eyes, turn our gaze, cover our ears...we can't because it makes us an accomplice to unfathomable brutality and devastation. The sad reality is that most of us do, most generations have, and without knowledge, most will continue to.

On future plans:

My old roommate always acted as a great voice of reason. We think alike in many ways and work through our thoughts in similar methods. Coffee with her last night was extremely helpful in calming the currents of my over-active mind. I had constructed a shaky tower of what-if's on which to position my future direction. I really have no idea what I want to do with myself once I leave these hallowed halls of college, but I feel a pulling, a summoning that urges the core of myself toward some unknown place, some unclear purpose. Alas!, over hot tea, in a noisy, but familiar house of coffee, I was able to move from the maddening buzz of my inner thoughts to a place significantly less congested. I had a pseudo-epiphanic moment.

For once, I embraced patience.

[sweet relief.]

Oh the times, they are a' changin'

It seems that life happens at a rate too fast for recording these days. I know I'm slacking here, and in personal journaling, and worst of all, I am very aware of the toll it takes for me not to be writing every day. Words become more difficult to use, and cobwebs blanket my inner vocabulary pool. I stutter a lot in my head...SOOO, I'm going to put forth more effort here, both for the therapeutic benefit and for the mental exercise it provides. I have to. I really feel that it is vital for whatever the next chapter holds.

I've been juggling this last semester with much more agility than I have in the past few, and I'm being more prudent with my study habits as the burning desire to get into graduate school for journalism has been re-lit...and there might be some futuristic talk, albeit still quite ambiguous, of relationships/careers/higher education and location and where it all could lead. All that to say that this is my current inexcusable excuse for slacking in the blog commitment. I'm sorry. I will do better.

This is turning into a kludge of a post, but I'll at least leave you with a teaser or two of things on my mind [that will hopefully be soon revisited in the form of substance].

On current reading lust:
I have noticed [as has The Staff Sergeant] that my palette has lessened an appetite for the heroine novels to which I was once drawn. I'm not talking about damsels in distress or worse yet, to be confused with drug use. No, the average, garden variety Oprah books [circa, beginning of the book club]...White Oleander, The Lovely Bones, Feast of Love, East of Eden. You know, where the women show resounding resilience and overcome obstacles to find themselves empowered in their new sense of self. blah, blah, blah. Ok, I did just receive the newest Sebold novel, but even she likes the dark side. Wow, a tangent has ensued! The point, and there is one, is to note the drastic turn from "warm and fuzzy" to war and destruction. To give you an idea, a list of my last 10 literary purchases:

1. What is the What
2. The Sandbox
3. The Graves are Not Yet Full
4. A Problem From Hell: America and the Age of Genocide
5. The Blog of War
6. War Reporting for Cowards
7. Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight
8. Journalista's
9. A Disorder Peculiar to the Country
10. Highways to a War

What to make of this?

Well, The Staff Sergeant has painted a picture including me in [insert war-torn country] running around in an over-sized Kevlar helmet as mortars go off around me, toting a notebook and/or satellite driven laptop. I, however, just want to get into Journalism School and to continue to feed the ravenous beast [guilty pleasure] of my own curiosity and impassioned heart. We'll see where it takes me :)

I'm sorry, what?

"Calls in Sudan for execution of Briton"

I am learning that there are many things in life that I will never understand, though I may try. Today's concern regards a certain teddy bear now carrying the [apparently blasphemous] name, Muhammad. I don't know if Ms. Gibbons had intentions steeped in spite, but it seems that naming a stuffed bear after a prophet pales in comparison to the 200,000+ living, breathing people that have been slaughtered...or the infinitely larger number of those displaced, homeless, and starving in the wretched conditions of refugee camps. But again, there are many things I don't understand, and I'm perfectly willing to stand corrected.

A teddy bear holds the name of a prophet and it makes headlines...blazing headlines. They want her stoned, rifled down by a firing squad, the people are moved to riots. The media whores have seduced their public with the hype of this event and the Sudanese have united...

If this much energy was spent in an attempt to squelch out all of the killing, all of the raping, all of the starving and homelessness created by the tragedy of this country, it would stop. It would have to. Instead, we foam at the mouth, we salivate at this news, we want to gather 'round the poor British teacher [who may or may not have known better]. The point is not that she is unworthy of concern. If I can cause you to think, rather, about the polar imbalance, then I will have said my piece. One woman stirs nations. One woman who very well may serve her 15 days in prison and be sent back home, she can cause this kind of international buzz but the hundreds of thousand dead cannot?

I am perplexed and a little bit disgusted.

Heavy thoughts.

I had a few accomplishments to note...

The kettle screams.

I hijacked The Roommate for a few hours this evening to attend with me The Devil Came on Horseback. What can one do with images like that, haunting ones?

She habitually turns on CNN in the mornings and following the routine I gape at the news. I bitch about the sensationalism in the theme music and request a xanax to combat the anxiety it spawns. I ask, following each depressing story, "What's wrong with the world?!," until she turns the channel or shuts it off all together. It seems fitting then, that following Brian Steidle's account of the methodical execution of hundreds of thousands I'm back to the question of HOW THIS HAPPENS.

Genocide is an unfathomable phenomenon to me...ashy remnants of their bodies...shackled wrists of little girls, wrists alone in a heap of soot...heads without faces, faces without eyes, without ears...corpse after corpse with hidden faces in the dirt. The ones who live might as well be dead. Their eyes are lost and vacant. They have nothing. NOTHING. And I log in to punch the keys in order to share with you my B-paper, the distance I pushed myself to run, my disdain for numbers.

Both my gains and plight seem so very small.

The Devil Came on Horseback

Go See it.

1 Step Forward, 2 Steps Back

I posted an article yesterday that claimed a force of 26,000 UN troops and police were to be sent in the Darfur region of Sudan. They were given the power to protect, disarm, and what I would consider, "discourage" a government endorsed militia capable of obscene atrocities.

This morning, BBC news reports a watered down version of the original plan. Apparently, the Sudanese government wasn't so keen on yesterday's idea...which should certainly prompt an immediate reluctance among peace keepers. I mean, it's not like the Sudanese government is funding the militia! (note sarcasm)

Another annoyance with today's article occurred when it clarified that the peace keeping force will be made up mostly of "African countries, a move also hoped to appease Sudan's initial antagonism to the force." Can there be a bit more hospitality for these guys?

I'm confused as to what exactly the message is supposed to be..."We're here to stop your rebel Janjaweed, but please let us do it comfortably and on your terms."? They are scheduled to meet Friday...we'll see what other footholds are lost after the weekend.

The times, they are a changin'

Displace Me video makes it's D.C. debut: WATCH!

AND...

26,000 U.N. troops and police are being sent into the Darfur region of Sudan: READ!

Wage Love, Spread Peace.

Guess? has designed 2 tanks that are benefiting the Invisible Children organization. 100% of the proceeds are going to the cause AND the 2 tanks come with copies of the Invisible Children documentary...which if you haven't seen, you SHOULD!

Wage Love, Spread Peace Guess tank
InvisibleChildren.com

Also, while I'm on my save-Africa-because-we-can soapbox, please visit these sites as well:

InstantKarma.org
Amnesty International Worldwide Petition

Sign the petition, and check out the Lenon covers...yes, as in John. Amnesty International put out the 2-disc album about 2 months ago and it is benefiting the crisis in Darfur. The artists include: Green Day, Snow Patrol, Avril Lavigne, Jack Johnson, Ben Harper, Aerosmith, REM, U2, Maroon 5, Postal Service, to name only a few. Check it out! It rocks hard for a GREAT cause!