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Bad Dreams

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I think the Columbine shooting is to blame for this recurring nightmare of being hunted by gunmen. I think I was in 9th or 10th grade when the Columbine shooting happened. I don’t remember the exact date, or even that it had a profound effect on me, but I definitely remember that these nightmares occurred after that.

I have a similar nightmare about seeing a bomb being dropped out of a plane. I think it’s why I hate air shows (Blue Angels, etc). I don’t go to air shows and marvel over the rate of speed or the coordination of the runs, I think about the true reason those planes exist. When I see them twirling around the sky, looping and diving, people cheering them on, I feel sick. War is not a game, nor is it a team sport! I understand, unfortunately, the necessity to have such machines and weapons but to cheer over machines which are used to kill? It’s just so barbaric. What if they brought the actual bombs instead of the planes that drop them? Would you cheer then? I would be physically sick. I’m sure I would vomit.

The funny thing about war is that the winners get to write the history books. Do you ever remember reading anywhere, at any time, about the winner of a war being wrong or admitting fault? When have you ever heard, “Well, you know that war? We never should have won it. We really were wrong.” No! It doesn’t happen! Each side has their justification.

And the innocent civilians who die? “Casualties of war.” Casualties? What kind of word is casualty, even? The stolen lives of INNOCENT people, casual? No, not according to my compass.

The more people I meet, places I go, and books I read, the more I realize that people are just people, and we are much more alike than we are different. That is not to say that there aren’t “bad” people because there are but to generalize whole cultures, races, nations of people as enemies, as expendable? You can’t just do that.

My Aunt Ena (really, my great aunt; she was my grandfather’s sister) lived during WWII. She was only a teenager during The Greenock Blitz, a Nazi air strike against the town because of its shipyards. The Nazis bombed the whole town at random. My Aunt Ena and Uncle Eddie used to tell stories about that time. As one of the stories goes, when the bombing stopped, my Uncle Eddie used to sneak out of his house and run to where he could see my Aunt Ena’s building, just to make sure it was still standing. Can you imagine living in such an environment? My aunt and uncle might have been in someone’s enemy territory but they were just innocent kids.

That innocent kid in some country that we are bombing could just as easily be my own if circumstances were different. For me, civilian casualties will never be acceptable.

Life is sacred.


Written by chachacharlene

July 16, 2011 at 12:39 pm

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