I have a dream: I dream of peace. I dream of a world where we no longer put people in uniforms, hand them a gun and tell them to “kill, baby, kill.” I’m not afraid to say I dream of a world entirely free of violence. Where we don’t express our opinions or anger through the bombing of cities, the hijacking of planes or through a wave of people with guns. I dream of this, but I know, that unlike Martin Luther King Jr. It will always be that: a dream.
On Nov. 5 2009 at Fort Hood, Texas, Major Nidal Malik Hasan a military psychiatrist –a man who spent his life analyzing the minds of men and women returning to, or being shipped out to Iraq and Afghanistan began a rampage that killed 11 people, wounded around 30 and ended when he was shot and wounded by authorities.
Major Hasan though of Palestinian decent and a devout Muslim was born and raised in America. His family members and former military chaplain said that Hasan had been harassed by fellow soldiers about his faith and called insulting names. His mental state had obviously become disturbed in the past few months as evidenced by the fact that despite his recent promotion to Major in May, he hired a lawyer to help him get out of the army.
A Scribd blog that has been accredited to Major Hasan compared soldiers who throw themselves on grenades to suicide bombers, he said “If one suicide bomber can kill 100 enemy soldiers because they were caught off guard that would be considered a strategic victory. Their intention is not to die because of some despair… You can call them crazy [all] you want but their act was not one of suicide that is despised by Islam.”
Whether Major Hasan attacked the soldiers at Fort Hood because of the harassment he suffered, his religion, or because he himself was about to be shipped out is still unclear. It is clear that while this is the deadliest shooting on a military base, it is not the first massacre we have seen in recent years.
On April 20 1999 almost ten years ago two boys went into their high school killed 13 people, wounded 24 and then shot themselves. It was first school shooting ever recorded and is still the deadliest of any high school shooting in America.
Horrified, we reformed gun control laws, high school bullying policies and security in schools, hoping to stop Columbine from ever happening again.
What will we do to make sure that the Fort Hood massacre never happens again? Will military officials finally realize that victory isn’t necessary to end this war? Will the American people give up on the idea of revenge for the events on Sep. 11 2001? Will we pull troops back instead of sending more in? We have a President who promised during his campaign to end this war on terror and bring our troops home. Instead, we’re talking about sending more in.
Granted, that we are finally getting somewhere in our long arduous struggle against Al Qaeda and other terrorists, that were finally fighting in the country we never should have left. But fighting is still fighting and more Americans are dieing now than any time before this “War on Terror” though many know this is no ‘war’ like we ever seen before.
Who is the enemy? Who are we fighting? Terrorists. Not a country, not a government, not an army. They wear no uniforms, follow no traditional chain of command, they do not fight like soldiers, and more importantly, they do not look like soldiers. They strike and retreat, hiding in shadows. This isn’t war, it’s just “kill, baby kill,” and its taking a mental tool on the men and women we send into fight.
What does it say about this ‘war’ when a psychiatrist in the military, a man whose job was to prepare the inexperienced for battle and to patch up the minds of men and women who had already been, kills almost a dozen people when faced with the fact that he was going to be shipped out as well. Was he, in some twisted form of rationale, trying to save his fellow Americans in the same way a soldier will throw is his body on top of a grenade?
What does that tell you about what killing does to people. The fear of being killed; the act of killing; holding a gun in your hand an pointing it at another person. A person who in all likelihood you cannot tell if they are an enemy or not. How can you when the enemy could be a 12 or 13 year old boy?
Is it irony that as this man fired shot after shot as I sat in American History, learning about immigrants coming to our great country to escape famine, oppression and war or is it just sad?
In that same class there is a student, a 15 year old sophomore who has already decided to join the military straight out of high school. He often wears camouflage to school, he’s in the ROTC and this Halloween his costume was the uniform of a soldier. He picks up a gun and puts on a uniform for education, he will go out and kill for that education. Now that is ironic.
I’m not a tree-hugger, or hippie. I cry for peace out of peace’s sake. I know what that uniform does to people. My mother was in desert storm and ever since she refuses to watch many army or combat movies and she is closed off and reserved about her experiences. One incident she has mentioned that plagues her mind still this day, was when she almost shot an Iraqi man while his daughter was in the room because she did not know if he was an enemy or a civilian.
The fact that my mother has shut off this part of her history from herself and her family terrifies me, though I know it is more for her own sanity than anything else.
This is what war does to people. Granted, not every soldier who is sent to Iraq or Afghanistan is there to kill enemy insurgents. Many of our troops patrol neighborhoods and cities protecting civilians. Soldiers remotely detonate car bombs and save many lives. But the main command that all soldiers are programmed to obey is still there. Kill the enemy. It is like a subliminal message pounded into their heads at boot camps and training grounds, “Kill, baby kill.” Now is the time to stop it.
Nine years is too long. Far too long. I am not saying we should have ignored the events of Sep. 11 and I won’t speculate as to whether this “War on Terror” was necessary, but it is necessary that we end it. Victory should no longer be the main objective, nor revenge, nor setting up a democratic republic in another country. Should we help other countries reach the freedom we are so lucky to enjoy? Of course, but not at the point of a gun.
I have a dream and I know it can become a reality. We have un-manned aircrafts and remote controlled disarming devices. We put a man on the moon in ten years, and if we put that same drive and inspiration into taking Man out of war I know we would be one step closer to peace.
I believe that one day we will have the technology, the diplomacy or even just the foresight to avoid wars and bombings all together. The War on Terror will end, and when it does, let all America cry out in joy : “Peace at last. Peace at last.”
Hmm...Well this seems to be turning into a pattern. I swear I haven't meant for updates to become so few and far between, but that doesn't mean you get to nag on me either. Count yourself lucky stalkers, after all, my own dairy hasn't seen a single word from me in months. Better be careful or it may get all jealous and kill you so it can have me all to itself.
If that made sense to you than give yourself a pat on the back, you're beginning to mentally translate my insanity into your own language -and becoming one step closer to insanity yourself. ^-^ Aren't you lucky?
Speaking of insanity, what is it with people and horoscopes and astrology? Do they really believe that the stars define who we are and what happens to us? I'll admit I find it fun to check my horoscope every once and awhile, but then there's people who become obsessed with it.
There are some people who spend twenty dollars a month to get detailed (ridiculously detailed and still so general it can 'come true') reports about upcoming events and advice on how to deal with said predicted events. There are even a richer class of people who spend hundreds of dollars on personal consultants and birth charts 'charting the destiny of their life'.
Maybe we as human beings are so obsessed with psychics, ghosts and the after life because it's a simple evolution of religion. Think about it, in medieval times people were unquestioningly faithful to the Catholic church, too much so even. During the enlightenment, religion was almost abhorred or at least considered a seperate life from everything else, science was the new religion. Now, the two are blended, a natural evolution into scholasticism. What science cannot answer, faith believes; what faith misconceives, science explains.
Many have asked, why can't science and religion mix? Why can't science be the how instead of the why? It seems to me, that more and more people are standing up and saying that in can be.
Wow, hey, long time no see.
Well, actually there's never been a 'see' because I've never seen you. Unless I mean in the sense that it's been a long time since you've seen me that would work. Actually, that's kind of creepy now that I think about it, you see me but I don't see you. You hear me but I don't hear you.
You're all ghosts!! I knew it! *Le Gasp* O.O
Anyways, enough crazy talk.
Oops. That means no more talking all together. I know! Compromise. "Anyways, moving on to slightly saner talk!" There we go that works.
Since I have to fill you all in since January 6th, or round those parts you'll have to forgive me if I tend to ramble a bit. I'll try to go in order of events, but more than likely I'll get excited about something and blurt. Too bad, so sad, deal.
January 13, 2009
My friend, Tish ( You know I really hate having to change names on here, I always end up with a group of friends with really weird names, anyways ->) had her 17th birthday today (She's older than me T.T) we went to an indoor amusement park where you can jump for hours in a huge room filled with trampolines lining the floor and halfway up the walls at 45˙ angles. So much fun and so much pain! I went to bed that night feeling like I was still on the trampoline-kind of like when you go swimming all day, go to bed and can still feel the movement of the water.
January 20, 2009
Obama's inauguration! I won't go on for too long about it because everyone already has, and it was quite a bit ago. I watched his speech in school in the cafeteria (they had it in the auditorium but it was full by the time my 3rd hour teacher decided to let us see it) which turned out to be pointless since high school students don't know how to Shut-Up. >.<
February 2, 2009
My 17th birthday!! Yay! A bit of a downer after a rockin' sweet 16 party, but then again, no one really fell for my 'Super 17' idea, however cool it would've been. The real fun was the weekend just before my birthday (my b-day was on a Monday this year, blegh) when my two friends spent the night. There were a lot of attacks on my sanity and some moments where horny high school boys' dreams would've been vindicated (much to my mortification) and an absolutely fantastic moment when looking out the window of my apartment bedroom window, we spotted two really hot guys playing video games. Playing peeping toms (what's the girl version of the name Tom anyway?) we ooh'ed and ah'ed at the window for a few moments and practically fell over in orgasmic delight when one of the guys actually started stripping in front of his window!! *drool* At first we couldn't believe our eyes.
"Did he just take his belt off?!"
"Oh my god he did!"
"Holy sweet mother of-there goes the shirt!"
I like to think it was my birthday gift from the Universe.
February 3, 2009
Day after my 17th birthday I get sent to the hospital. Yay! Not. Another moment of stomach pains. This being the third time, and it actually disrupting school, they finally ran tests.
While it is a relief to finally know what the pain was, it is not fun hearing you have a gall bladder full of gallstones at 17. Gallstones happen for a lot of reasons, it seems to be hereditary (they're still studying that,) and you're at a higher risk if you're overweight, even slightly (which I'm not) but even with those two factors working against me, this shouldn't happen at 17. They have to run more tests, and I'll find out more tomorrow, for now, it's pretty certain my gall bladder is going to be cut out. Three cheers for surgery at 17! Hey, at least it's still covered by my mom's insurance.
February 7, 2009
Speech tournament! I double entered and ended up getting 2nd place in Poetry Interpretation, and 3rd place in Drama! I was so happy! I even got to ride the bus with my new and old team (since the two school are really close, physically and mentally) which was quite fun. I was in drama finals with this really cute guy I had a crush on while on the team before and when I saw his piece. Oh. My. God. *Drool* I have, what will soon prove to be a very unhealthy habit of thinking creepy guys are really sexy. I mean the kind of 'I want to jump you because that maniacal laugh was the sexiest thing I've ever heard kind of unhealthy habit.' And his piece (7 to 10 minute monologue for those who have no idea what I've been talking about) was the "Joker" not from Dark Knight so it was completely original and his laugh, and his manner, were soo... so sexy. I mean I was already attracted to him (he's really very handsome and tall! Oh being 5'8" myself I really need and want a tall guy he's at least 6'4") and this was just the icing on the cake. And then to get third place (out of 6, and over 150 competitors) was just amazing. I had a brilliant weekend.
February 9, 2009
Whew! So that's everything! You're all caught up! Now do me a favor won't you? and sign up below to be a follower/stalker so I can see you! Or if you'd rather just send me a message or comment! I've always wanted to talk to a ghost!
Earlier that night, my mother, and 24 year old sister had gone to a barbecue party with drinking and such. I elected to stay behind and babysit my four year old niece. An hour after she had fallen asleep, I was watching T.V. when the muscles in my stomach began to feel...strange. At first it wasn't painful, it felt like my muscles were constricting, but then very suddenly and very fast the sensation grew to become the worst pain I have ever felt in my life. It felt as if something, right underneath ribs was screaming in agony. As if every molecule, every atom were trying to rip away from everything else. I could feel this sharp pain not in stomach but all around it. It wasn't cramps, I'd had those before, wrong area, wrong feeling. Confused, scared, and in pain, I had no idea what to do.
I was alone and babysitting my niece, no one in my family answered there phones as most were at a party or I didn't have their number. Eventually a family friend answered their phone and drove me to the hospital.
