World War III, the long way
There was a fiery plane crash last night in Toronto.
At band practice, we talked about how it was "just a plane crash." No bombs, no hijackers, just an old-school, bad weather, slidin' off the runway plane crash. And nobody died. It wasn't another moment in the War.
I know two people who are on the front lines of this new war, this Third World War that is taking much longer than any of us who grew up in the Reagan years expected. One guy, a young Muslim of Pakistani descent, is a security guard for MARTA, Atlanta's commuter train system. He was hired to provide security for the people that go around and empty the token machines, and then London happened. He was issued new weapons and new rules of engagement. Shoot first. The other guy, an all-American former cop and triathelete, is working in Baghdad with a private security firm. He sends home emails full of Tom Clancy lingo and pictures of himself wearing a kufiya and an M4 assault rifle.
The Muslim guards the homeland; the Yank works for corporate interests in an occupied country. This is a bit of a false dichotomy, I know, based as it is on two casual acquaintances and not on any kind of scientific survey or formal information gathering. It's just a sidelong glance at the one of the quirks of this new world we all live in.
Random facts seem to add up to something, and then they don't. Conspiracies blossom and wither. There are wars and rumors of wars - which is how it has always been. (The Book of Revelations doesn't describe the End Times, but rather it condenses the whole of human history.) Did I mention that the Muslim security guard is married to a Catholic? That her huge drunk Irish family and his huge traditional Pakistani family celebrated together, just a few weeks ago?
Maybe we're not at war. Maybe they are, and we're just all caught in the middle. The ones who are so sure they know the true name of God, the ones who know what Heaven looks like, they're all trying to send us there. Trying to fulfill the prophecies.
At band practice, we talked about how it was "just a plane crash." No bombs, no hijackers, just an old-school, bad weather, slidin' off the runway plane crash. And nobody died. It wasn't another moment in the War.
I know two people who are on the front lines of this new war, this Third World War that is taking much longer than any of us who grew up in the Reagan years expected. One guy, a young Muslim of Pakistani descent, is a security guard for MARTA, Atlanta's commuter train system. He was hired to provide security for the people that go around and empty the token machines, and then London happened. He was issued new weapons and new rules of engagement. Shoot first. The other guy, an all-American former cop and triathelete, is working in Baghdad with a private security firm. He sends home emails full of Tom Clancy lingo and pictures of himself wearing a kufiya and an M4 assault rifle.
The Muslim guards the homeland; the Yank works for corporate interests in an occupied country. This is a bit of a false dichotomy, I know, based as it is on two casual acquaintances and not on any kind of scientific survey or formal information gathering. It's just a sidelong glance at the one of the quirks of this new world we all live in.
Random facts seem to add up to something, and then they don't. Conspiracies blossom and wither. There are wars and rumors of wars - which is how it has always been. (The Book of Revelations doesn't describe the End Times, but rather it condenses the whole of human history.) Did I mention that the Muslim security guard is married to a Catholic? That her huge drunk Irish family and his huge traditional Pakistani family celebrated together, just a few weeks ago?
Maybe we're not at war. Maybe they are, and we're just all caught in the middle. The ones who are so sure they know the true name of God, the ones who know what Heaven looks like, they're all trying to send us there. Trying to fulfill the prophecies.
posted by tay0 at 07:05
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