Theists, Heal Thyselves
We are to believe that the assembled might and dignity of the Arab world holding forth against their arch-enemy Israel, have the condition of their house well in hand. Led by the Royal House of Saud and his imperial majesty the gathering sits in judgement of their neighbour Israel, holding an olive branch of peace to be offered once and once only. Blink to think and it's gone. Accept our conditions and you will be permitted to live; defy them and we will once again unleash the chariots of death against you.
Peace and goodwill toward all. Compromise to ensure that the interests of both are taken into account for a just and lasting peace is beyond question; accept what is proferred or suffer the consequences. Israel has proven adequate to suffering the consequences; the Arab world has proven proficiency in delivering the consequences, then slinking back in ignominious defeat to lick their wounds. The lesson, a logical mind might infer, is that Israel is determined to hold her ground, maintain her state of being.
She has learned, unfortunately for the region as a whole, that to the Arab mentality compromise simply isn't an option. Compromise means capitulation, a sign of weakness, signing over to the enemy that which was not to be granted by any means, at any time, through any auspices; land once dedicated to Islam, surrendered to another religious group, another culture, historical intruders.
But wait: things have changed, the Arab world has undergone an alteration in its mind-set, and some at least among them seem prepared to accept the inevitable, that their neighbour, however much derided and despised is intent on staying for the duration. Accommodation is recognized as a new requirement, and to that end the Arab League mouthed the sentiment that a peace accord between neighbours is their goal. They speak as one voice, brothers all, religious cohorts, tribal partners in geography.
Yet they don't tend to their housekeeping, Sunni versus Shia is the order of the day. They chafe with the knowledge of carnage ongoing in Iraq, of the threat another non-Arab neighbour poses to the geography with its grandiose ambitions to spread a version of Islam anathema to most of the Arab League. Question is writ large: why is there no accommodation, no attempt at reconciliation, understanding and peace made to breach the gap between the two Islamic interpretations of Muhammad's message?
Why is it that a massive effort is not being waged to bring the seemingly irreconcilable factions in Iraq together in peace for the ultimate formation of a state to represent both versions of Islam? Why isn't an effort being launched to dissuade Sunni Islamists, Shia insurgents; to pacify them, to assist them in engaging in civil communication for the greater good of Islam and the country they represent?
Might not the resolve to solve this national misery be a matter of first issue to the collected assembly of arbitrators? Clean up the neighbourhood, bring peace to an important Arab state, illustrating that commitment to stability and peace. Then turn around and offer a sincere attempt to negotiate fairly and honestly with another neighbour, one that has no intention of disrupting the region, wishing only to live in peace.
Do they not care that in the last two days alone hundreds of Muslims were murdered by other Muslims? Hundreds more wounded? Is it not of intense concern to them that citizens of Iraq have no security, no peace, no surcease in violence? Revenge killing followed by revenge killing; children, women and innocent men forfeit their lives simply by trying to live within their country's borders.
Do something needful. Then come back and communicate meaningfully, honestly.
Labels: Middle East
"If Tears Could Build a Stairway"
With all due respect, and with outrage in my heart, the judge was, quite simply, wrong. Wrong, wrong. Wrong. Justice Brian Burrows, holding court in the trial of a group of sub-normal hominids ruled that the oldest among them, among the group of men who raped and murdered a beautiful vivacious young girl should be acquitted. Justice Burrows extinguished the guilt of a guilty man, expressing a peculiar version of justice, leaving the murdered girl's family to live out their anguished lives of justice unrealized.
Nina Courtepatte, thirteen vulnerable years of age when she was so brutally attacked and her life taken from her, leaves behind a younger sister for whom the trauma of this particular life's experience may never permit her to live a normal life. The dead girl's mother, Peacha Atkinson, wept when 21-year-old Joseph Laboucan was pronounced guilty of first-degree murder. He was given a mandatory life sentence with no parole for 25 years, although under the 'faint hope' clause in 13 years' time he can apply for early parole.
Who would not weep - for the utter uselessness of it all. A murderer is tried, found guilty and sentenced. The life he took is gone. There is no return on the deposit of murder in the first degree or for that matter any degree; life is gone, forever. There is no surcease of sorrow, there is a huge yawning chasm of disbelief, sorrow and emptiness. "If tears could build a stairway, and memories a lane, I would walk right up to heaven and bring you home again", Nina's mother promised her daughter.
There are times when words miss their mark, when mere letters forming words of explanation fail to convey the full measure of unassuagable grief. But Nina's mother Peacha managed somehow to bridge that gap when she informed the court how much her family's lives have been impacted, diminished, impoverished without the presence of the young girl whose presence was so precious to them, whom they so dearly loved.
The man whom Judge Burrows acquitted was the oldest among the deranged group of imbeciles who lured Nina from the West Edmonton Mall, drove her with a companion girlfriend to a secluded spot, sexually assaulted her and beat her to death with a sledgehammer on April 3, 2005. It was the acquitted man, Michael Briscoe, 36, who drove the group to the isolated golf course. He was present when the young girl was being raped and horrendously beaten. He did nothing to stop the assault.
Each time Peacha Courtepatte sees a young girl who resembles her murdered child her heart will shrivel in pain. Every year that passes will have her think of her child Nina, as being a year older; when Nina might have been certain sign-post ages in her development as a older teen, a young woman, her mother will recoil in the aching thought that comes to her mind unbidden of her dead child's lost opportunities to experience love, marriage, motherhood. Nina's mother will force herself to deal with her loss for the sake of her other daughter, but nothing can ever restore to her the peace of mind she once owned.
A degenerate primate passing itself off as a man remains free in the exuberance of freedom restored, to live his life in any manner to which he has become accustomed. What manner of social exchange can this represent in the pursuit of justice?
The judge erred, grievously. We're all the poorer for it.
Labels: Heroes and Villains
Psychopathic Religious Confliction
You've got to wonder. Why can't we be left alone? In the larger sphere, that is. Why must one group of people harbour such dark feelings against another group? We've been constructed and hard-wired in a manner to have feelings of suspicion against strangers in our midst, against those whose social mores, cultures and traditions don't match our own since time immemorial, as a simple expedient of nature, to assist us in our basic organic need of self-preservation.
But it's been a very long time since furtive forays of one hunting band against its neighbours took place to ensure that their territories weren't breached and with it their food stocks depleted. Wouldn't, one wonders, our superior brains, since we are, after all, "Man the Wise" dictate reason to smooth over our ungovernable emotions of distrust in all those millennia since mankind hunted and foraged for territorial and existential advantage?
One of the first emotional ingredients for disaster recognized and set aside by ancient philosophers and religious leaders was that of envy. The Ten Commandments, emulating much earlier injunctions brought forward in early societies seeking to infuse their populations with a sense of right and wrong so that all might live together in harmony, warned against envy and greed. Man the wise, it appears on the record of our long and sad history of abuse one against the other is not all that wise.
Take the most recent aggressive attacks against the West by fanatical Islamists who despise our less rigid, more accepting, social-democratic codes of living for our populations, where diversity is respected and egalitarianism is honoured as a right between human beings. Our societies have evolved where generally speaking people of varied backgrounds are able to live in some semblance of harmony, goodwill and peace. Religion has taken a back step to secular democracy as a governing tool. As a result people are far less rigidly doctrinaire in their religious observances, as well as in their broader acceptance of what is socially acceptable in behaviour and lifestyles.
There are times when this results in a society less concerned about true values, more concentrated on the trite and cosmetic appurtenances of life. Morals and ethics become diluted to the point of 'relativism'. This is the exchange between rigid observance of forbidden behaviours usually related to religious proscriptions, and the freedom of expression, the tolerance of others that Western societies have succumbed to, for the betterment of society at large.
Yet many among the most rabidly jihadist Islamists seem to prefer to deliver their messages of hate and condemnation in the very seat of those societies they so abhore. They have no interest, it would seem, in living within the confines of the repressive societies which their hate-speech exemplifies, much preferring the freedoms that participatory-democracies provide them to express their right to free speech, that very society they condemn. Fundamental extremists who incite against the West and its culture prefer to live within the safe confines of that very culture.
When some of these hate-mongerers are deported from the countries which have given them safe refuge because of their virulently harmful activities they do everything in their power to return to that country which sought to expunge them. Somehow the countries to which they have been deported and from which they originally came lack appeal, fraught as they are with socially repressive laws and religious demands for behaviour beyond their true wish to practise. In the same breath that they inhale the freedom of the West, they exhale the dark terror of the baleful societies they've left behind.
When authorities in the West finally determine that their presence is too troublingly incendiary and potentially harmful to the population at large and take measures to expel them from the country, these hate-mongers plea that on return they may be subject to imprisonment or torture in their home countries whose virtues they had previously expounded upon. Some even threaten to use the laws of the free country to sue the governments seeking to expel them.
Islamist extremists incite against the West while spewing their hatred and contempt, domiciled there in safety and protection for their families. They embrace the protection afforded them by the despised countries' laws, while decrying the loose social mores that so offend them in a secular society which offers refuge to those who practise their various religions without persecution.
These malcontents adeptly learn all the advantageous ways in which they can manipulate laws enacted to ensure freedom, safety and equality within the population at large to their devious advantage.
Labels: Political Realities
Sovereign Protection?
War is hell, yes it most certainly is. The urge of imperialist countries in the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries to extend their visions, expand their horizons, subjugate other less powerful countries and reap the benefits of their resources while holding their peoples hostage to the perceived needs of the conquering country was just another scourge in the world repeated time and again in earlier incarnations, but now generally frowned upon.
The British Empire extended far and wide, and in its hey-day competed for hegemony with countries like Spain, France, Portugal and Russia. Britain's was a vast empire of conquest, an amazing feat for a small island-nation determined to enlarge its territory, resources and reputation. Only bit by bit did Britain relinquish control of all those subjugated countries so far removed from her own geography.
But an odd thing happened on the way to independence for many of those countries; they determined it would be in their best interests to remain loyal to the British Crown, and despite attaining independence as sovereign states, also bowed to their past as subjugated states. The world, all of a sudden, on April Fool's Day, 1982, became aware of a little island that Britain named the Falkland Islands, and which Argentina from whom it had been wrested by Britain named the Malvinas.
Argentina at that time was in disarray, its dictator-politicians held in deep suspicion by its people, and it sought an adventure to restore its former territory-island as a way to bring back a little lustre to its sorry self. The thing about the Falklands is that, despite its distance from Britain, it was settled by Britons, and over the generations Falkland Islanders have remained British, their loyalty to the home country unalloyed by proximity to Argentina within South America.
Britain too was in political doldrums, and Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher restored herself in the opinion of her public by ordering a task force to the rescue when Argentine troops invaded 25 years ago. Outright war seen through two months of miserable fighting. Margaret Thatcher's popularity soared, guaranteeing her victory in a looming election that previously had her on the losing end. It was the worst kind of imperialistic posturing, to prosecute a nasty war to retain a tiny island that Britain had no business acquiring in the first place.
And in the process of that war, Argentine troops were completely routed, utterly demoralized, and the country of Argentina had reason to go into a deep mourning for the lives of hundreds of seamen lost when their ship was bombed and sunk by the British. The Argentines fought bravely for what they believed was theirs to begin with, but they were no match in the end for the well-trained and superbly equipped British. Moreover, there were Falklanders who spied on the Argentine troops and passed on vital military information to the British forces.
Details such as equipment, position and morale. There were even photographs taken of anti-aircraft sites smuggled through to the British. In some places like Goose Green and Darwin, hand-to-hand combat took place, with rifles, pistols, bayonets, shovels and fists. There were no tanks, little air cover, and hardly any artillery. The debris of war; wrecked mortars, discarded army boots, food rations and crushed radio and signalling equipment still litters the coast in places.
Since the British success in defending the Falklands and the complete routing of the Argentine forces, British troops remain on standby there.
Question is, what was accomplished? How can a country find pride in such an enterprise? More to the point, how can Lady Margaret Thatcher have a clear conscience for the deaths of so many for so little?
Labels: Political Realities
The Errant Convenience of Hypocrisy
What is there about the human psyche that impels so many among us that it behooves them because of their social, political or celebrity status to become a beacon unto the world? To lead us into a world that they conceive of as superior to that which we inhabit? To bring their message of sanctimonious righteousness to those of us so utterly lacking in the ability to recognize the true values in life and living? Not that none of us should be immune to taking lessons from any source that we recognize as legitimately able to teach us.
But it is the compromised high-minded among us that tend to extend their efforts the furthest and most emphatically to fulfill their own needs to teach us the way of the world and how to take our place within it, with their gentle and inspired guidance. We start out the process having the utmost respect for these people, for having attained their life's position, imbuing them with a sensitivity and creative genius somehow lacking in us.
And then, alas, discover that they are but straw men, their exterior upright and sound, the interior corrupted - just like the rest of us. The condition of mankind. But isn't it a miserable disappointment, anyway? Someone of the character, for example, of former U.S. President Bill Clinton who despite his fine mind found himself functionally incapable of looking straight ahead and keeping his hands from wandering, then having no compunction about lying to preserve his tattered reputation. We love him anyway, don't we?
Since we started off with American presidents, how about Jimmy Carter, that god-fearing failure of a president, but resounding success as a human-rights activist? Through his Carter Center in Atlanta, it is undeniable the man has done much good, sending his emissaries out throughout the Dark Continent to offer assistance where they can. His connection with Habitat for Humanity was a good and decent effort to demonstrate what ordinary people could aspire to, in helping their fellow man.
Then he somehow went off track, dissembling and fulminating and pointing fingers of blame in a one-sided tirade against a country assailed on all sides by adversarial proponents of Islam at its most rigidly doctrinaire. There's also the former presidential hopeful and sidekick of Bill Clinton whose stated concern for the environment pre-dated his vice-presidency and whose vintage activities culminated in An Inconvenient Truth, hailed as a Hollywood award-winning blockbuster, leading the good fight to save the environment.
Wouldn't you know it, Al Gore's personal lifestyle simply doesn't match his message for us plebeians. The staggering energy it takes to ensure his mansion chugs along nicely would do for 20 ordinary homes; his heated pool-house alone consuming what most households use in energy. Nary a blush. He has purchased carbon credits to offset his splendiferous lifestyle. Smoke and mirrors, anyone? Carbon credits! He has the imperial presence, the ready cash, so he can have his mansion and heat it too.
This is staggeringly awful; who can we trust? Well, how about Bono, for a good-hearted, determined saviour of the indigent and the oppressed, forever urging governments, including his own, to increase their foreign-aid budgets to ease the pain of an unprivileged life for the downtrodden? His message is right on; who could not agree there are such needs? In a sense, he does himself, seeing the utility in moving his taxable assets offshore to handy tax havens avoiding the punishing Irish tax system. Effectively leaving Ireland with less income which it is expected to assist underdeveloped countries with.
Hmm, our own, highly-respected and much-loved David Suzuki? There's a Canadian media star and nagger-extraordinaire and he's all our very own. He's been telling us for years that we're neglecting our environment, that we don't value it as we should, that we are incredibly wasteful, that we should heed the dire need of other creatures we share this planet with. He's right, and we admire and respect him for all of what he's done in educating us and encouraging us to be better world citizens.
So, imagine the disappointment when we discover that in his eagerness to educate us still further in encouraging our awareness of the environmental disasters already on our horizon, he and his entourage, travelling across this vast country, are unnecessarily adding to the particulate matter sullying our air through the use of a honking big 'celebrity-style' diesel bus whose capacity is far in excess of the needs of his modest 7-man crew. David! how could you?
All right, how about Michael Moore? Whose celebrated films have won him admiration the world over, for tackling the worst aspects of American capitalism, pointing out the wrecks, civic and human left in the wake of wealthy corporate depredation. He hounds his prey - nervous executives - and tracks them, and interrogates them, and embarrasses them, and demonstrates how shabby and hollow they are, poor elites.
Oops! what's this? Seems as though his films are a trifle less than honest in content; he has the unfortunate habit of showing that which underlines his message eliminating nuisance facts, kind of like fashioning a research project to reflect one's theory, right? So what happens when someone realizing just that, through the exposure that comes with actually working for and with him decides to ask questions? Nothing to discuss. Just go away. Well, how about an independent news person seeking an interview to clarify these misunderstandings? Um, too busy. Sorry about that.
Remember his dedicated pursuit in Detroit featured in Roger and Me? Tables have turned. Sorry: Mr. Moore is simply too busy; unapproachable, untouchable, unavailable.
Labels: Human Fallibility
