Prisoner abuse is the topic of the moment. The photos circulate around the globe, blue links embedded in forwarded emails, spinning out of address books, spinning out of control. It is sickening. Bad for everyone; making people look at the tragedy of this abuse; making people answer for it; making people mad for all manner of reasons.
Why did we not hear of this earlier? What takes so long? In this information age, the facts are seconds away unless it is something that needs to be hidden, something that is so shameful that it cannot surface until someone comes forward. Then the world is all pissed off for different reasons, but really, the same reason. Injustice, cruelty, disgust, hatred, dishonor, betrayal – man’s inhumanity towards man – all the usual suspects.
I hope that this doesn’t cast a poor light on the armed forces out there now, who fight daily, die daily, for this indescribably irresponsible war. But, it has to, in a way. I am sorry that the actions of a few might tarnish the reputations of all. My answer, as it always has been, is let’s just bring everyone home.
Troops come home. Peace is the only answer, the dove, the olive branch, the white flag, all of it. They are losing their religion out there, and we are far past that point at home.
War really brings out the shitty qualities in people, doesn’t it? I have heaviness in my heart, sadness for everyone, the soldiers, the Iraqis, the dead, the injured, the abused, the abusers, the hostages, the hostage takers, the media – even the administration, because the only thing they can do is give up. They have to. Don’t they?
I watched “Johnny Got His Gun,” which should be re- released right now, or shown on television. I want a media blackout – and then this film (which I procured at Kim’s on St. Mark’s, on a Region 2 French DVD) to be seen on every multiplex theatre IMAX screen, every HDTV, every computer monitor, every blank wall. Metallica made a video out of parts of it. It was powerful in the brief glimpses of the terror of war and the abject human horror of the violence it portrays, even when we weren’t at war, like we are now.
Watch the film in its entirety, and you will find you cannot fathom the idea of war, what it does to people, who suffers, how they suffer. It is about a young man who goes to war, believing that the truth of democracy lies in his own self sacrifice. He is ready to die for his country, for freedom, but he isn’t really sure what democracy is. He just wants to go for it, because that is what everyone says is the right thing to do. It’s for America, and so that is why it’s right.
But the problem is, he doesn’t just cleanly die. Oh no, if only it were that simple. He is not dead, but his body is. He can feel everything, but he has lost everything. His brain is still very much alive, but he has no mouth, no eyes, no face, no arms, no legs, no way to know if it is day or night, no way to know if he is sleeping or awake, no way to know if he is having a nightmare or if he is in hell. He is kept in a utility room at the army hospital, away from prying eyes and camera lenses, for medical evaluation. Kept alive, to see what happens when you keep someone alive who is not alive. At least not really.
It serves as a metaphor for our country. When we are at war and rely on media for what is happening, do we really see it? Do we have eyes? Do we have a mouth to speak our dissent? Do we have arms to stop what is going on? Do we have legs to move ourselves to run towards change? Is this a nightmare? Are we alive? Are you sure?