enough yogic herbal hyper-empathy. he slaughtered us. orphaned little kids. who are we, really, to deny him his martyr’s heaven? a win win.
We got the last true remaining monster of the 20th century – a gruesome slice of humanity – and bam! It’s red vs blue again
To all news reports about Osama unarmed, not resisting, etc. I don’t care if he was naked & tied to a chair, shoot the frakker. Thx Seals!
In case you’re wondering, the preceeding are three tweets from folks I follow — big shocker here — on Twitter for whom I used to have considerably more respect.
I have deleted their names and any retweet information because I hope that one day at some point in the future, I will be able to forgive them for this. Maybe even forget that they did it.
I really didn’t think that anything could lower my opinion of the mentality of the American public when acting as a group any lower than it already is but just like a good horror movie, as soon as you think you’ve killed the boogey-man — bam! Back in your face.
And this has been an absolutely atrocious week for me — I’ll admit it. I either have the flu or the head cold from hell; I’ve missed all my hours at one job and all my hours but one day at the other. I have accomplished nothing except the filling of many Trader Joe’s paper bags with used tissues, the consumption of a lot of tea or TJ’s Yuzu citrus stuff, and a lot of cat-cuddling. I’m tired and achey and depressed and the good weather outside is really just making me want to close all the blinds and hide on the couch.
And there are street parties because a man was executed. I don’t care what the mother-fucker did: in the end, we executed him. And what led up to it is a series of unpleasant activities culminating in the violation of another nation’s sovereignty that I don’t really want to think about right now because the stupidity and the shortsightedness and the viciousness and the lack of either foresight or historical hindsight make me dizzy with anger. I don’t believe that can ever have been justified or right or even a reasoned act. This is sheer revenge-laden viciousness and the reaction is nauseating.
I’m not being very yogic or Buddhist about this right now. I did, in my fever-laden snooze this week, sometimes think I could write a post in that spirit.
But mostly I want to grab people who write things like these heaven-forsaken tweets above by the scruff of the neck and shake them until their fucking teeth rattle. This is not how you behave, people. This is behavior that rivals Fred Phelps for sheer disgust and, believe me, it is going to take many years of dedicated metta meditation before I could put Mr. Phelps in the appropriate category.
And that attitude on my part isn’t helping.
So I’m going to go and brush my cat and help my girlfriend rearrange her books and drink some green tea and sweep my living room and try to get through my day as calmly and empathetically as I can.
Even if it means feeling compassion for people I would really rather see going down for the third time in the middle of the Charles.
Because I wouldn’t. I don’t want them to die; I didn’t want him to die. I would like them to wake up magically tomorrow morning and think, “Oh, my God. What have I been doing? Did I go crazy? Well, enough of that — lets go volunteer at an animal shelter.” Or words to that effect. It would have been nice if the same thing had happened to bin Laden. It didn’t and now it never can.