I'm tired. Of all the
I'm tired. Of all the endless debate. Thornton with his peculiar view that historical precedent ought to guarantee present acceptance. Sullivan with his insistence that it all boils down to Anti-Semitism. Buchanan's idea that terrorism has a venerable pedigree (which is a variation on Thornton's ‘historical precedent' view). Said's oh-so-ideological contention that it is the Israelis, and not the Arabs, who are bent on genocide. All of Europe wrestling with the ghosts of their past. America trying to find friends to go the war with.
Zoom out now, in true CGI style, and view the entire planet. Witness the big big bash that wiped out the dinosaurs, observe the spread of the green wealth of carbon-dioxide-hungry plants and the emergence of the furry mammals. Look! There in Africa, monkeys are coming down from the trees, and bashing each other on the head with rocks. See that one? He's bigger, with a bit of a bigger brain-pan, and testicles that produce just a dram or so more per bang than his fellows. Look at all his progeny! Leaping and swinging into the caves, beating in the heads of mastodons, they trek northward, and—speeding up now—look at them go! Spreading across the face of the earth, like mold on a rotting apple.
And now, witness the pattern: they gather together, finding affinity. The groups claim bits of land, plant crops, prosper, and invent many gods. Other groups wander through and try to take it from them; conflict erupts, blood is spilled, the victor's god-ideas are reinforced by their success, walls are built, buildings, temples, cities. Eventually, in one arid patch of desert, economy of thought kicks in and many gods become few, then one. All in an endless ebb and flow of swelling populations, conflict, disease, death, birth. Over and over.
Then the entire planet convulses, millions on the march, mechanical winged-and-footed creatures assist us as we all pound each other into the mud for important and meaningful reasons. Hot metal shreds us by the hundreds of thousands, then the tens of millions, ovens are built, greasy smoke belches into sky. Finally in a southern ocean the very stuff of matter is split and towering fire blooms…twice. Many tens of thousands flake into ash. We pause. We take a breather, occasionally swatting at each other. Waiting. Resting up for the next round.
And what is important and meaningful to us this time? What draws our attention?
That patch of desert, where a god-idea bloomed.
It's not about Israel, people. It's not about Palestine. It's not about self-determination, or oppression, or rights.
It's about god.
You want to solve the problem? Kill god, if you can.
