2003.04.08
2003.04.08
i haven’t been much inspired to write much lately. work has been much of a downer and my little uptime i’ve been spending in lovely female distraction. i could write about stupid protesters and how annoyed i am that the media doesn’t even have a clue what war is and is not about, about how some of the strongest economies in the world were built by america after defeating those nations, about how some of the greatest despots in the modern world were stopped by america. educated people know this, though, and those that don’t probably never will know this no matter how you explain it to them.
well, that’s not true. lately i’ve been thinking of writing a little story on how to best explain to someone why it’s necessary to sometimes do what we are doing in the middle east, or what we did to hitler, or… well, just read.
The talk at the party soon drifted to the “war”. Daren still had a problem calling what was happening a “war” as no formal declaration was made by Congress but it was warfare and he could forgive the bantering of semantics, if just barely.
“It’s wrong,” said Kate. “We have no business invading another country and killing people. No blood for oil.” A general murmur of assent ran through the room. Daren appreciated her opinion even if he disagreed.
Kate went on. “The French were right to stop the United Nations from endorsing this. War is wrong. There’s no good reason for war. Ever.” She was looking Daren straight in the eye as she said this.
“I don’t know why you’re looking at me.”
“You support the military. Hell, you grew up in the military. You were against this before. Now you’re for it? You’re a hypocrite.”
The room went silent with the challenge. Daren sighed. He knew there was no way to avoid this except to leave and he just didn’t feel like walking away from this fight. It would seem like Kate had won and he knew Kate was wrong.
“Ed, can I borrow you for a second? I’m sorry about this, but you can do what you want to me later.”
Daren hit Ed in the arm as hard as he could. Shocked gasps went out.
“Mother fucker!” yelled Ed.
“Wait wait,” said Daren putting his hands out to try and calm him down. Ed paused and Daren looked Kate in the eye. “Now pretend you heard I’m a bloody asshole. You’ve heard I torture my cat and you’ve heard I once beat one of my girlfriends. You’ve even heard I keep a rifle in my flat with a laser sight and aim it at joggers that run by in the park. You don’t know what to make of these apparent rumors. I seem nice enough and I do favors for you on a moments notice. I seem like a nice guy, but you can see where I might not be; I seem kind of unpredictable to you.”
Daren slugged Ed in the arm again. Ed took a swing at Daren, who was ready for it and ducked under the rather large fist. “Hold on, Ed! I’m sorry! Don’t hit me! I’m just making a point!”
Kate looked unimpressed. “What is your point, eh? All I see is you’re being a real asshole now. You want us to pretend all those things about a gun and hitting your girlfriend, but I’m beginning to think it might be true.”
“Funny how quickly you can demonize me, but fine. Now then, pretend that one day you piss me off. You may not even know why. You’re out jogging and you see a red dot on your arm. Now you’re freaked out.”
Daren slaps Ed in the face. This time Ed does hit Daren, knocking him down. People grab Ed before he managed to jump on top of Daren.
“I’m really sorry Ed. If I were going to do this properly I would have arranged this with you ahead of time and made it so everytime I hit you, you would just have to stand there and take it.”
“Fuck you.” In the background a chunk of ice tinged in a glass.
“What are you trying to do?” asked Kate shrilly. “Is there even a point to all of this?”
“The question should be what would you do? Now you feel threatened by me. Maybe I could even kill you. You don’t have any proof except rumors and a red dot that may or may not have been me. What do you do, Kate?”
“I goto the police and turn your sorry ass in is what I do.”
“Let me tell you what the police will do then. If -and that’s a big if- they even consider your case, then they will come to my house and ask me a few questions. I will act shocked and saddened that you would accuse me of such craziness. I would even invite them in to search for the rumored rifle ignoring my rights to demand a search warrant. They wouldn’t find it anyways, as I’m very good at hiding things. In the end they leave. Now what do you do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well pretend one day you come home and your cat is dead, neck obviously broken. Would you think it was me?”
“Of course.”
“And later that day I pass you on the street. I look you in the eye and tell you I am not happy being visited by the police. Do you notice the possible menace? And let’s say that night you see me through a window with a big rifle. Hurredly you grab your camera, but in your haste the picture isn’t great. You know it’s a rifle, but it could be something else, too, and when you show it to the police they tell you, sorry, it’s just not enough proof. Now you’re frustrated with the police and just a bit afraid of going home.”
The crowd watching the exchange started murmuring. A few people were talking about Daren’s story when suddenly Daren kicked Ed in the gut. Ed freaked out and jumped Daren, punching and clawing. It took three big guys to rip him off Daren, and Daren’s face was a bloody mess.
“My point,” said Daren through coughs and the occassional spit of blood, “is how many punches, slaps and kicks can America take before it’s time to hit back? How long can you live in fear, that the fictional me might do something more serious to you than just kill your cat and point a large rifle at you?”
“I’m sorry, Ed. I hope someday you’ll forgive me for hitting you.”
Daren grabbed a fist full of ice from the tray and left the party that was no longer a party.
it needs some work, but that’s the basic scenario i’ve been playing around with in my head recently. yes, i am generally against war, and i don’t even want to go into the issues of the bush connections in the middle east or how our government supplied saddam hussein with chemical weapons in the first place. in this case, though, i am for the war if only because saddam hussein is an evil fuck, iraq and the world deserve better. in our country, if you don’t like the government then just wait a few years and bloody well vote. most of the world doesn’t have that choice, though. iraq certainly doesn’t, and saddam’s sons (who would surely inherit) are worse than even papa hussein.
hmmm. so much for not having anything to write tonight. i’ll try to edit the story as i see problems and errors. if you see any please let me know. thanks.
Categorized: political writing
You can follow any responses to this entry with a RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
