Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Arrrgh!
You are The Cap'n!
Some men and women are born great, some achieve greatness and some slit the throats of any scalawag who stands between them and unlimited power. You never met a man - or woman - you couldn't eviscerate. You are the definitive Man of Action, the CEO of the Seven Seas, Lee Iacocca in a blousy shirt and drawstring-fly pants. You’re mission-oriented, and if anyone gets in the way, that’s his problem, now isn’t? Your buckle was swashed long ago and you have never been so sure of anything as your ability to bend everyone to your will. You will call anyone out and cut off his head if he shows any sign of taking you on or backing down. If one of your lieutenants shows an overly developed sense of ambition he may find more suitable accommodations in Davy Jones' locker. That is, of course, IF you notice him. You tend to be self absorbed - a weakness that may keep you from seeing enemies where they are and imagining them where they are not.
What's Yer Inner Pirate?
brought to you by The Official Talk Like A Pirate Web Site. Arrrrr!
Arrrgh!
You are The Cap'n!
Some men and women are born great, some achieve greatness and some slit the throats of any scalawag who stands between them and unlimited power. You never met a man - or woman - you couldn't eviscerate. You are the definitive Man of Action, the CEO of the Seven Seas, Lee Iacocca in a blousy shirt and drawstring-fly pants. You’re mission-oriented, and if anyone gets in the way, that’s his problem, now isn’t? Your buckle was swashed long ago and you have never been so sure of anything as your ability to bend everyone to your will. You will call anyone out and cut off his head if he shows any sign of taking you on or backing down. If one of your lieutenants shows an overly developed sense of ambition he may find more suitable accommodations in Davy Jones' locker. That is, of course, IF you notice him. You tend to be self absorbed - a weakness that may keep you from seeing enemies where they are and imagining them where they are not.
What's Yer Inner Pirate?
brought to you by The Official Talk Like A Pirate Web Site. Arrrrr!
Monday, September 17, 2007
It's Just So Frustrating!
If this doesn't sum up the season known as Big Brother 8, I don't know what does. Two more days, folks. That's all....
It's Just So Frustrating!
If this doesn't sum up the season known as Big Brother 8, I don't know what does. Two more days, folks. That's all....
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Unconscious Mutterings
I say ... And You Think:
1. Rita :: Meter Maid
2. Comedy :: Tonight
3. Polar :: Bear
4. Idiots :: Epidemic
5. Perception :: Often flawed
6. Infected :: Sick
7. Fake :: Insecure
8. Relating :: Empathizing
9. Distraction :: Cats, Kids and Music
10. Gamble :: Risk
Well. It went from song cues to pessimism on parade (Welcome to the firm of Idiots, Perception, Infected and Fake) but I am most grateful for the distraction.
1. Rita :: Meter Maid
2. Comedy :: Tonight
3. Polar :: Bear
4. Idiots :: Epidemic
5. Perception :: Often flawed
6. Infected :: Sick
7. Fake :: Insecure
8. Relating :: Empathizing
9. Distraction :: Cats, Kids and Music
10. Gamble :: Risk
Well. It went from song cues to pessimism on parade (Welcome to the firm of Idiots, Perception, Infected and Fake) but I am most grateful for the distraction.
Unconscious Mutterings
I say ... And You Think:
1. Rita :: Meter Maid
2. Comedy :: Tonight
3. Polar :: Bear
4. Idiots :: Epidemic
5. Perception :: Often flawed
6. Infected :: Sick
7. Fake :: Insecure
8. Relating :: Empathizing
9. Distraction :: Cats, Kids and Music
10. Gamble :: Risk
Well. It went from song cues to pessimism on parade (Welcome to the firm of Idiots, Perception, Infected and Fake) but I am most grateful for the distraction.
1. Rita :: Meter Maid
2. Comedy :: Tonight
3. Polar :: Bear
4. Idiots :: Epidemic
5. Perception :: Often flawed
6. Infected :: Sick
7. Fake :: Insecure
8. Relating :: Empathizing
9. Distraction :: Cats, Kids and Music
10. Gamble :: Risk
Well. It went from song cues to pessimism on parade (Welcome to the firm of Idiots, Perception, Infected and Fake) but I am most grateful for the distraction.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Power, Strength, Potential
This was from a 2006 The Blue Voice blog post. Sadly I cannot find the original page now, but I have the poem in its entirety in my inbox.
This was forwarded to me from Mensch71 and was found on the blog Vagabondish. Evidently someone alerted him to this quote and it has been passed around a bit. Taken from Richard Bode's 'Beachcombing at Mirmar,'
We have the capacity to be so much more than merely a bipedal primate mammal. We have the power and the strength and the potential to evoke great changes not only in the world, but in our lives. If only we'd open our eyes to the needs that surround us, and tap one-tenth of the potential that burns inside us, oh my. What a different world this would be. We'd be so much more than human. We'd be humane.
I spent my whole life
waiting for God to send me a invitation
while I ignored God who lived next door
I thought that God was out there
and not in here
I never knew that God had given us tools
to create heaven on Earth,
powerful tools like compassion, understanding,
humility and solidarity.
I never knew that God lived at the bus stop
or in a taxi cab
or in the kindness of a stranger on the street
or in the 7-11
I didn't know that God whispered to me
when I read about places like Darfur
and didn't realize that my prayers were ignored
because I had the power to answer them on my own.
This was forwarded to me from Mensch71 and was found on the blog Vagabondish. Evidently someone alerted him to this quote and it has been passed around a bit. Taken from Richard Bode's 'Beachcombing at Mirmar,'
I have a choice, the same choice that faces every man. I can live a frivolous life, trying to impress others with the house I live in, the clothes I wear, the car I drive. I can strive to be a success in the way of the world, seeking the admiration of others, reveling in their jealousy. I can seek domination over my family and fellow workers in a vain attempt to hide my own deficiencies. I can seek fame, which is the most elusive pursuit of all, for it has no substance and soon vanishes in the air.
I can indulge in endless prattle about my friends and neighbors, dissipating my life's energy a little at a time. I can wallow in self-pity, refusing to accept responsibility for my own circumstances. I can manipulate others into taking care of me, which is the way of all petty tyrants. I can complain about boredom, as if it were up to those around me to inject excitement into my day.
These are the patterns of the living dead, people who have forsaken life, who are willing to squander their most precious gift, because they refuse to face up to the reality of death. If they wanted to live, truly wanted to live, they would rise up in a resurrection of their own making and commit themselves to the life they have.
One definition of humanity is
the quality of being humane.
One definition of humane is
Characterized by kindness, mercy, or compassion
And yet the definition of human is
the quality of being humane.
One definition of humane is
Characterized by kindness, mercy, or compassion
And yet the definition of human is
a bipedal primate mammal
We have the capacity to be so much more than merely a bipedal primate mammal. We have the power and the strength and the potential to evoke great changes not only in the world, but in our lives. If only we'd open our eyes to the needs that surround us, and tap one-tenth of the potential that burns inside us, oh my. What a different world this would be. We'd be so much more than human. We'd be humane.
Power, Strength, Potential
This was from a 2006 The Blue Voice blog post. Sadly I cannot find the original page now, but I have the poem in its entirety in my inbox.
This was forwarded to me from Mensch71 and was found on the blog Vagabondish. Evidently someone alerted him to this quote and it has been passed around a bit. Taken from Richard Bode's 'Beachcombing at Mirmar,'
We have the capacity to be so much more than merely a bipedal primate mammal. We have the power and the strength and the potential to evoke great changes not only in the world, but in our lives. If only we'd open our eyes to the needs that surround us, and tap one-tenth of the potential that burns inside us, oh my. What a different world this would be. We'd be so much more than human. We'd be humane.
I spent my whole life
waiting for God to send me a invitation
while I ignored God who lived next door
I thought that God was out there
and not in here
I never knew that God had given us tools
to create heaven on Earth,
powerful tools like compassion, understanding,
humility and solidarity.
I never knew that God lived at the bus stop
or in a taxi cab
or in the kindness of a stranger on the street
or in the 7-11
I didn't know that God whispered to me
when I read about places like Darfur
and didn't realize that my prayers were ignored
because I had the power to answer them on my own.
This was forwarded to me from Mensch71 and was found on the blog Vagabondish. Evidently someone alerted him to this quote and it has been passed around a bit. Taken from Richard Bode's 'Beachcombing at Mirmar,'
I have a choice, the same choice that faces every man. I can live a frivolous life, trying to impress others with the house I live in, the clothes I wear, the car I drive. I can strive to be a success in the way of the world, seeking the admiration of others, reveling in their jealousy. I can seek domination over my family and fellow workers in a vain attempt to hide my own deficiencies. I can seek fame, which is the most elusive pursuit of all, for it has no substance and soon vanishes in the air.
I can indulge in endless prattle about my friends and neighbors, dissipating my life's energy a little at a time. I can wallow in self-pity, refusing to accept responsibility for my own circumstances. I can manipulate others into taking care of me, which is the way of all petty tyrants. I can complain about boredom, as if it were up to those around me to inject excitement into my day.
These are the patterns of the living dead, people who have forsaken life, who are willing to squander their most precious gift, because they refuse to face up to the reality of death. If they wanted to live, truly wanted to live, they would rise up in a resurrection of their own making and commit themselves to the life they have.
One definition of humanity is
the quality of being humane.
One definition of humane is
Characterized by kindness, mercy, or compassion
And yet the definition of human is
the quality of being humane.
One definition of humane is
Characterized by kindness, mercy, or compassion
And yet the definition of human is
a bipedal primate mammal
We have the capacity to be so much more than merely a bipedal primate mammal. We have the power and the strength and the potential to evoke great changes not only in the world, but in our lives. If only we'd open our eyes to the needs that surround us, and tap one-tenth of the potential that burns inside us, oh my. What a different world this would be. We'd be so much more than human. We'd be humane.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Thursday Thirteen
Thirteen Great Quotes From Quotes of the Day That are Still in my Inbox
Barbara Tober
2. "It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious."
Oscar Wilde
3. "Brass bands are all very well in their place - outdoors and several miles away."
Sir Thomas Beecham
4. "To read a newspaper is to refrain from reading something worthwhile. The first discipline of education must therefore be to refuse resolutely to feed the mind with canned chatter."
Aleister Crowley
5. "On my income tax 1040 it says 'Check this box if you are blind.' I wanted to put a check mark about three inches away."
Tom Lehrer
6. "Tradition is what you resort to when you don't have the time or the money to do it right."
Kurt Herbert Alder
7. "A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the word you first thought of."
Burt Bacharach
8. "I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me."
Noel Coward
Noel Coward
9. "The right to be heard does not automatically include the right to be taken seriously."
Hubert Humphrey
10. "If it's true that our species is alone in the universe, then I'd have to say that the universe aimed rather low and settled for very little."
George Carlin
11. "No opera plot can be sensible, for people do not sing when they are feeling sensible."
W. H. Auden
12. "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work."
Thomas Edison
13. "If there are no stupid questions, then what kind of questions do stupid people ask? Do they get smart just in time to ask questions?"
Scott Adams
George Carlin
11. "No opera plot can be sensible, for people do not sing when they are feeling sensible."
W. H. Auden
12. "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work."
Thomas Edison
13. "If there are no stupid questions, then what kind of questions do stupid people ask? Do they get smart just in time to ask questions?"
Scott Adams
Thursday Thirteen
Thirteen Great Quotes From Quotes of the Day That are Still in my Inbox
Barbara Tober
2. "It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious."
Oscar Wilde
3. "Brass bands are all very well in their place - outdoors and several miles away."
Sir Thomas Beecham
4. "To read a newspaper is to refrain from reading something worthwhile. The first discipline of education must therefore be to refuse resolutely to feed the mind with canned chatter."
Aleister Crowley
5. "On my income tax 1040 it says 'Check this box if you are blind.' I wanted to put a check mark about three inches away."
Tom Lehrer
6. "Tradition is what you resort to when you don't have the time or the money to do it right."
Kurt Herbert Alder
7. "A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the word you first thought of."
Burt Bacharach
8. "I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me."
Noel Coward
Noel Coward
9. "The right to be heard does not automatically include the right to be taken seriously."
Hubert Humphrey
10. "If it's true that our species is alone in the universe, then I'd have to say that the universe aimed rather low and settled for very little."
George Carlin
11. "No opera plot can be sensible, for people do not sing when they are feeling sensible."
W. H. Auden
12. "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work."
Thomas Edison
13. "If there are no stupid questions, then what kind of questions do stupid people ask? Do they get smart just in time to ask questions?"
Scott Adams
George Carlin
11. "No opera plot can be sensible, for people do not sing when they are feeling sensible."
W. H. Auden
12. "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work."
Thomas Edison
13. "If there are no stupid questions, then what kind of questions do stupid people ask? Do they get smart just in time to ask questions?"
Scott Adams
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Eh, Maybe
this Child of Mercury thinks someone should have used an "Extream" spell checker.
What Planet Are You From?
this quiz was made by The Autist Formerly Known As Tim
Eh, Maybe
this Child of Mercury thinks someone should have used an "Extream" spell checker.
What Planet Are You From?
this quiz was made by The Autist Formerly Known As Tim
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
2190 Day Retrospective
Six years ago I was exactly where I am today: surrounding myself with music and teaching eager college students to sing. I didn't know the world had spun out of control until almost 11:30 am, when a student came into my studio with a dazed expression. My first thought was, "ugh. Boy troubles" and I started to mentally replace my diva crown with a psychologist booth that said, "The Doctor is In." She gave me an incredulous "don't you KNOW?" and then filled me in on what details she had. I spent the rest of the day teaching in a haze as I tried to contact family members who worked in Washington, DC and lived less than a mile from the Pentagon.
Two years ago I was in New York City, surrounding myself with music as TinyTuna was singing in Carnegie Hall with the children's choir. GramTuna and I drove up and stayed in a hotel that was across the street from the huge crater known as Ground Zero. I thought I would feel more than I did as I stared at this now cleaned out construction site. But other landmarks haunted me more, like historic St. Paul's Chapel up the next block and a large building also on Ground Zero that was entirely enclosed in a black shroud due to toxic mold and dust.
St. Paul's Chapel was a symbol of life. This was the tiny church that suffered no damage from the collapse of the towers. This was the tiny church that became home for so many who worked 12-hour shifts for months and months after the attack; sifting through wreckage and looking for traces of anything that might bring comfort to surviving family members and friends. Inside it was filled with teddy bears and artwork that spoke of the eternal courage and hope of all the rescue and recovery workers.
But the enshrouded Banker's Trust Building (also known as the Deutsche Bank Building) was an eerie reminder of death. Because of the mold and dust no company was willing to tear it down, so there it stood, mute. It was a haunting grim reminder of horrors past.
Ground Zero was neither life nor death. It was now just a cleaned out hole with a few random construction vehicles. If you didn't know better, it looked like any other construction site. Now sanitized from its painful past, it just stood quietly, betraying its awful past, awaiting its next foundation.
Six years ago we were a different country. There were troubles, to be sure, but as a nation we were blinded in our innnocence to the possibility of hatred and violence on American soil.
How things changed after that day. Instead of being blinded by innocence, we were blinded by rage and a craving for world power and domination. We plunged recklessly into war. Blinded by grief, we succumbed to a life of fear and watched our many human rights stripped away from us one after another, like a bandage on a wound not yet healed.
2190 days later, perhaps the greater tragedy is how things have stayed the same. There are symbols of death. Over 3000 enshrouded reminders have returned to be buried in American soil. There aren't many pictures, because that would show weakness and project a negative image of the war machine. But make no mistake, they are there. Just ask the parents, husbands, wives, and children. No community has been left untouched by this unshakably sad shroud of loss.
There are symbols of life. The American public has started to wake up, speak up and question the rhetoric. Finally people are recognizing that those who govern BY fear are doing so BECAUSE of fear. America might have lost some of its blind innocence, but in its place there is an increasing sense of the true meaning of the word leader, and it comes from a source of strength and confidence, not fear and intimidation of its people.
And then there is that place that is neither life nor death. A place with a few random security vehicles, but so sanitized and removed from both life AND death, if you didn't know better, it would look like just another tourist stop in our nations capitol. Just like six years ago. Just like today. And probably, just like tomorrow.
Maybe one day it will be different. Maybe as a people we will learn. Maybe we will continue to find our hearts and our voices and become courageous and strong enough to be symbols of life unwilling to be ruled by fear. Maybe we will be brave enough to acknowledge and honor the shrouds of death. And maybe, just maybe, that little tourist stop at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue will own up to its awful past and admit it isn't so sanitary after all.
In fact, it's a downright mess.
Two years ago I was in New York City, surrounding myself with music as TinyTuna was singing in Carnegie Hall with the children's choir. GramTuna and I drove up and stayed in a hotel that was across the street from the huge crater known as Ground Zero. I thought I would feel more than I did as I stared at this now cleaned out construction site. But other landmarks haunted me more, like historic St. Paul's Chapel up the next block and a large building also on Ground Zero that was entirely enclosed in a black shroud due to toxic mold and dust.
St. Paul's Chapel was a symbol of life. This was the tiny church that suffered no damage from the collapse of the towers. This was the tiny church that became home for so many who worked 12-hour shifts for months and months after the attack; sifting through wreckage and looking for traces of anything that might bring comfort to surviving family members and friends. Inside it was filled with teddy bears and artwork that spoke of the eternal courage and hope of all the rescue and recovery workers.
But the enshrouded Banker's Trust Building (also known as the Deutsche Bank Building) was an eerie reminder of death. Because of the mold and dust no company was willing to tear it down, so there it stood, mute. It was a haunting grim reminder of horrors past.
Ground Zero was neither life nor death. It was now just a cleaned out hole with a few random construction vehicles. If you didn't know better, it looked like any other construction site. Now sanitized from its painful past, it just stood quietly, betraying its awful past, awaiting its next foundation.
Six years ago we were a different country. There were troubles, to be sure, but as a nation we were blinded in our innnocence to the possibility of hatred and violence on American soil.
How things changed after that day. Instead of being blinded by innocence, we were blinded by rage and a craving for world power and domination. We plunged recklessly into war. Blinded by grief, we succumbed to a life of fear and watched our many human rights stripped away from us one after another, like a bandage on a wound not yet healed.
2190 days later, perhaps the greater tragedy is how things have stayed the same. There are symbols of death. Over 3000 enshrouded reminders have returned to be buried in American soil. There aren't many pictures, because that would show weakness and project a negative image of the war machine. But make no mistake, they are there. Just ask the parents, husbands, wives, and children. No community has been left untouched by this unshakably sad shroud of loss.
There are symbols of life. The American public has started to wake up, speak up and question the rhetoric. Finally people are recognizing that those who govern BY fear are doing so BECAUSE of fear. America might have lost some of its blind innocence, but in its place there is an increasing sense of the true meaning of the word leader, and it comes from a source of strength and confidence, not fear and intimidation of its people.
And then there is that place that is neither life nor death. A place with a few random security vehicles, but so sanitized and removed from both life AND death, if you didn't know better, it would look like just another tourist stop in our nations capitol. Just like six years ago. Just like today. And probably, just like tomorrow.
Maybe one day it will be different. Maybe as a people we will learn. Maybe we will continue to find our hearts and our voices and become courageous and strong enough to be symbols of life unwilling to be ruled by fear. Maybe we will be brave enough to acknowledge and honor the shrouds of death. And maybe, just maybe, that little tourist stop at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue will own up to its awful past and admit it isn't so sanitary after all.
In fact, it's a downright mess.
2190 Day Retrospective
Six years ago I was exactly where I am today: surrounding myself with music and teaching eager college students to sing. I didn't know the world had spun out of control until almost 11:30 am, when a student came into my studio with a dazed expression. My first thought was, "ugh. Boy troubles" and I started to mentally replace my diva crown with a psychologist booth that said, "The Doctor is In." She gave me an incredulous "don't you KNOW?" and then filled me in on what details she had. I spent the rest of the day teaching in a haze as I tried to contact family members who worked in Washington, DC and lived less than a mile from the Pentagon.
Two years ago I was in New York City, surrounding myself with music as TinyTuna was singing in Carnegie Hall with the children's choir. GramTuna and I drove up and stayed in a hotel that was across the street from the huge crater known as Ground Zero. I thought I would feel more than I did as I stared at this now cleaned out construction site. But other landmarks haunted me more, like historic St. Paul's Chapel up the next block and a large building also on Ground Zero that was entirely enclosed in a black shroud due to toxic mold and dust.
St. Paul's Chapel was a symbol of life. This was the tiny church that suffered no damage from the collapse of the towers. This was the tiny church that became home for so many who worked 12-hour shifts for months and months after the attack; sifting through wreckage and looking for traces of anything that might bring comfort to surviving family members and friends. Inside it was filled with teddy bears and artwork that spoke of the eternal courage and hope of all the rescue and recovery workers.
But the enshrouded Banker's Trust Building (also known as the Deutsche Bank Building) was an eerie reminder of death. Because of the mold and dust no company was willing to tear it down, so there it stood, mute. It was a haunting grim reminder of horrors past.
Ground Zero was neither life nor death. It was now just a cleaned out hole with a few random construction vehicles. If you didn't know better, it looked like any other construction site. Now sanitized from its painful past, it just stood quietly, betraying its awful past, awaiting its next foundation.
Six years ago we were a different country. There were troubles, to be sure, but as a nation we were blinded in our innnocence to the possibility of hatred and violence on American soil.
How things changed after that day. Instead of being blinded by innocence, we were blinded by rage and a craving for world power and domination. We plunged recklessly into war. Blinded by grief, we succumbed to a life of fear and watched our many human rights stripped away from us one after another, like a bandage on a wound not yet healed.
2190 days later, perhaps the greater tragedy is how things have stayed the same. There are symbols of death. Over 3000 enshrouded reminders have returned to be buried in American soil. There aren't many pictures, because that would show weakness and project a negative image of the war machine. But make no mistake, they are there. Just ask the parents, husbands, wives, and children. No community has been left untouched by this unshakably sad shroud of loss.
There are symbols of life. The American public has started to wake up, speak up and question the rhetoric. Finally people are recognizing that those who govern BY fear are doing so BECAUSE of fear. America might have lost some of its blind innocence, but in its place there is an increasing sense of the true meaning of the word leader, and it comes from a source of strength and confidence, not fear and intimidation of its people.
And then there is that place that is neither life nor death. A place with a few random security vehicles, but so sanitized and removed from both life AND death, if you didn't know better, it would look like just another tourist stop in our nations capitol. Just like six years ago. Just like today. And probably, just like tomorrow.
Maybe one day it will be different. Maybe as a people we will learn. Maybe we will continue to find our hearts and our voices and become courageous and strong enough to be symbols of life unwilling to be ruled by fear. Maybe we will be brave enough to acknowledge and honor the shrouds of death. And maybe, just maybe, that little tourist stop at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue will own up to its awful past and admit it isn't so sanitary after all.
In fact, it's a downright mess.
Two years ago I was in New York City, surrounding myself with music as TinyTuna was singing in Carnegie Hall with the children's choir. GramTuna and I drove up and stayed in a hotel that was across the street from the huge crater known as Ground Zero. I thought I would feel more than I did as I stared at this now cleaned out construction site. But other landmarks haunted me more, like historic St. Paul's Chapel up the next block and a large building also on Ground Zero that was entirely enclosed in a black shroud due to toxic mold and dust.
St. Paul's Chapel was a symbol of life. This was the tiny church that suffered no damage from the collapse of the towers. This was the tiny church that became home for so many who worked 12-hour shifts for months and months after the attack; sifting through wreckage and looking for traces of anything that might bring comfort to surviving family members and friends. Inside it was filled with teddy bears and artwork that spoke of the eternal courage and hope of all the rescue and recovery workers.
But the enshrouded Banker's Trust Building (also known as the Deutsche Bank Building) was an eerie reminder of death. Because of the mold and dust no company was willing to tear it down, so there it stood, mute. It was a haunting grim reminder of horrors past.
Ground Zero was neither life nor death. It was now just a cleaned out hole with a few random construction vehicles. If you didn't know better, it looked like any other construction site. Now sanitized from its painful past, it just stood quietly, betraying its awful past, awaiting its next foundation.
Six years ago we were a different country. There were troubles, to be sure, but as a nation we were blinded in our innnocence to the possibility of hatred and violence on American soil.
How things changed after that day. Instead of being blinded by innocence, we were blinded by rage and a craving for world power and domination. We plunged recklessly into war. Blinded by grief, we succumbed to a life of fear and watched our many human rights stripped away from us one after another, like a bandage on a wound not yet healed.
2190 days later, perhaps the greater tragedy is how things have stayed the same. There are symbols of death. Over 3000 enshrouded reminders have returned to be buried in American soil. There aren't many pictures, because that would show weakness and project a negative image of the war machine. But make no mistake, they are there. Just ask the parents, husbands, wives, and children. No community has been left untouched by this unshakably sad shroud of loss.
There are symbols of life. The American public has started to wake up, speak up and question the rhetoric. Finally people are recognizing that those who govern BY fear are doing so BECAUSE of fear. America might have lost some of its blind innocence, but in its place there is an increasing sense of the true meaning of the word leader, and it comes from a source of strength and confidence, not fear and intimidation of its people.
And then there is that place that is neither life nor death. A place with a few random security vehicles, but so sanitized and removed from both life AND death, if you didn't know better, it would look like just another tourist stop in our nations capitol. Just like six years ago. Just like today. And probably, just like tomorrow.
Maybe one day it will be different. Maybe as a people we will learn. Maybe we will continue to find our hearts and our voices and become courageous and strong enough to be symbols of life unwilling to be ruled by fear. Maybe we will be brave enough to acknowledge and honor the shrouds of death. And maybe, just maybe, that little tourist stop at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue will own up to its awful past and admit it isn't so sanitary after all.
In fact, it's a downright mess.
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