I’m moved to wonder, what then are we fighting for? Against whom? for whom? and how? and why? The answer seems to be, “for freedom.” From what? For what? And how does it work? How will we spend those idealized days after victory is secured?
Ask the Libyans, the Tunisians, the Egyptians, and Yemenis. What have they fought for? How have their days changed? What mines have been swept to make passage from birth to death soft and smooth? And who are we with fists in the air and eyes crossed between selective history and utopia?
The ability to play drums and walk the straight path to God’s salvation. To swim beyond the pool of Sodom to the turquoise glass sill of Arcadia. Or into the fires of an African swelter, Allah akbar, to feast in thanks giving, and to make love to Love. To walk and to see and to play, to be gentle in wargames, to climb trees and howl at the moon.
Justice is no final victory, it’s an occupation.
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