Terrorism In Our World
Bienvenue de Paris, notres amis.
Today has been one of sorrow and contemplation here in Paris. We have been stunned. The Parisian hearts are certainly with those nearest neighbors fallen victim to these monstrous acts of terrorism.
I'm taking a few minutes out of my vaction to peck on an unfamiliar keyboard for reasons of sorrow and anger. But not fear. Past the point of fear.
In Paris today we woke lazilly and headed through the morning much as one would expect. The news told us of the 'blast' in London, and of the pozer surge in the Underground that was, at the time, suspected to have caused it. It wasn't until the fact of the decapitated bus was revealed that we bagan to understand, with the British themselves, that the occurance was much more timely and relevant than that.
In Paris, the longing, jealous sadness at London's claim of the 2012 Olympics [And yes, they wanted it so badly that it truly did hurt them here not to have gotten it], turned quickly into sympathy and sorrow. It was a somber day.
We walked on the Champs-Elysses in the afternoon and they'd left the barricades up, intended for the Olympic parade, but now turned into security necessities upon the heightened alerts. The President's central-Paris residence covered by many security agents; but passing tourists still gazing in the windows of the shops in the area.
The city is busy today, but also it is filled with a kind of malaise. The French are open, but sad and reflective. There is no space today for those classic combatitive French conversations lining the coffee-shops.
The signs point more and more to Terror, the kind that is most successful. The kind that has no meaningful political purpose- there is no aid for Africa, there is no determined stance of Love, there is no search for protest, understanding, voice- the goal is simply to shake our bones until we can no longer stand the clatter. The G8 for us was, for once, our chance at voicing our demand for Love, and it must remain that. For them it is a venue to simply remind us of their desire for Terror.
They have little interest in seeing things through- for groups like Al Queda the only meaning worth fighting for is Fear. Their allies are null. That's a shame, and one that we don't accept.
But even terror must never be fought in reaction; that leads us into deeper and deeper pits of despair and difficulty. It must be fought with intelligence, reason, and capable, meaningful action. It can be faught with Love, and that is what we must reclaim.
There's little more to say. Good luck to you, Friends.
Today has been one of sorrow and contemplation here in Paris. We have been stunned. The Parisian hearts are certainly with those nearest neighbors fallen victim to these monstrous acts of terrorism.
I'm taking a few minutes out of my vaction to peck on an unfamiliar keyboard for reasons of sorrow and anger. But not fear. Past the point of fear.
In Paris today we woke lazilly and headed through the morning much as one would expect. The news told us of the 'blast' in London, and of the pozer surge in the Underground that was, at the time, suspected to have caused it. It wasn't until the fact of the decapitated bus was revealed that we bagan to understand, with the British themselves, that the occurance was much more timely and relevant than that.
In Paris, the longing, jealous sadness at London's claim of the 2012 Olympics [And yes, they wanted it so badly that it truly did hurt them here not to have gotten it], turned quickly into sympathy and sorrow. It was a somber day.
We walked on the Champs-Elysses in the afternoon and they'd left the barricades up, intended for the Olympic parade, but now turned into security necessities upon the heightened alerts. The President's central-Paris residence covered by many security agents; but passing tourists still gazing in the windows of the shops in the area.
The city is busy today, but also it is filled with a kind of malaise. The French are open, but sad and reflective. There is no space today for those classic combatitive French conversations lining the coffee-shops.
The signs point more and more to Terror, the kind that is most successful. The kind that has no meaningful political purpose- there is no aid for Africa, there is no determined stance of Love, there is no search for protest, understanding, voice- the goal is simply to shake our bones until we can no longer stand the clatter. The G8 for us was, for once, our chance at voicing our demand for Love, and it must remain that. For them it is a venue to simply remind us of their desire for Terror.
They have little interest in seeing things through- for groups like Al Queda the only meaning worth fighting for is Fear. Their allies are null. That's a shame, and one that we don't accept.
But even terror must never be fought in reaction; that leads us into deeper and deeper pits of despair and difficulty. It must be fought with intelligence, reason, and capable, meaningful action. It can be faught with Love, and that is what we must reclaim.
There's little more to say. Good luck to you, Friends.
posted by General Stan at 12:09 PM
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