Monday, March 19, 2007
Here it is, the fourth anniversary of the invasion of Iraq. Isn’t that a cheery thought? I don’t exactly want to send George Bush and co. to hell, but I find myself hoping that there’s such a place as purgatory where they will have to apologize person by person, face to face, to everyone who has been in any way hurt by our presence there: Iraqis, troops, families--everyone. And none of this “mistakes were made” crap (which one announcer I heard describe as the “past exonerative”); deeply, humbly, sincerely apologize with genuine contrition. That’s what I want.
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There is a reckoning. I know there is, though it is perhaps not called purgatory. We don't have to wish for it, it comes for us all in Bardo. As for here and now, I try to work my foolish, clumsy way to the still place and be there, with the heaviness of my heart in the hands of the Eternal. This does not change anything, nor even me--there is no solace. But it is all I can think of to do.
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