I begin this morning's thoughts with a quote.
"There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with." -Harry Crews, novelist and playwright (b. 1935)
Really? You think? I wonder what the Guatanamo scar will look like, feel like, because right now, 10 years after it opened, it's still a festering, pus-filled wound. Today, I could put on an orange jumpsuit and a black hood and hit the Federal Building at noon, but I won't. I could poster the city with flyers that say "Free Djamel" in support of the man detained at Guatanamo since 2002 with no charges, but I won't. I could call or write a letter to the President to demand that he close Guatanamo now but I won't. Because he already knows. He knows and you know and I know what a horrible disgrace this torture-filled prison camp is, and we let it remain open today without storming the damn thing and busting down the walls and freeing those 171 detainees and finding them asylum right here and now.
Just like we let the wars go on and the homeless suffer and the physically and mentally ill go untreated and the hungry eat sub-substances and so on and so on and so on like an Herbal Essence commercial.
Today, the 11th day of January in the year of 2012, I hang my head in shame.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now I wonder if, like President Obama, I did the opposite of what I said I'd do (or not do in this case).
That's a CODE PINK to you, Mr. President. Let's just leave it at that.
For my friend Joanna and the activists friends she's lost this week.
"There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with." -Harry Crews, novelist and playwright (b. 1935)
Really? You think? I wonder what the Guatanamo scar will look like, feel like, because right now, 10 years after it opened, it's still a festering, pus-filled wound. Today, I could put on an orange jumpsuit and a black hood and hit the Federal Building at noon, but I won't. I could poster the city with flyers that say "Free Djamel" in support of the man detained at Guatanamo since 2002 with no charges, but I won't. I could call or write a letter to the President to demand that he close Guatanamo now but I won't. Because he already knows. He knows and you know and I know what a horrible disgrace this torture-filled prison camp is, and we let it remain open today without storming the damn thing and busting down the walls and freeing those 171 detainees and finding them asylum right here and now.
Just like we let the wars go on and the homeless suffer and the physically and mentally ill go untreated and the hungry eat sub-substances and so on and so on and so on like an Herbal Essence commercial.
Today, the 11th day of January in the year of 2012, I hang my head in shame.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now I wonder if, like President Obama, I did the opposite of what I said I'd do (or not do in this case).
That's a CODE PINK to you, Mr. President. Let's just leave it at that.
For my friend Joanna and the activists friends she's lost this week.
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