Sunday, 15 November 2015
Paris, Beirut, Baghdad
There are things to announce, new developments in my writing career; they can wait for now.
There aren't any words. What the hell do you say about this, except that it's awful?
And there aren't any answers. Not from me, anyway. I don't know what to do. Military action? Half the folk calling for it are the same idiots who bayed for blood in Iraq and still haven't admitted their catastrophic error. I marched against the Iraq War, for all the good it did. But this isn't 2003. And yes, ISIS, ISIL, Da'esh - whatever these Stone Age fuckwits call themselves, or we call them - are at least in part a monster of the West's making. But they're still monsters. Left alone, they'll kill people horribly, worsen the ongoing refugee crisis and - if they are indeed as they claim behind what happened in Paris on Friday - it isn't exactly a stretch to say they'll likely organise further attacks. If we bomb the hell out of them, will we end the problem or just make the problem worse?
I don't know. I have no idea. I doubt most of the politicians do.
I've heard hate and bigotry screamed at all Muslims. I've heard cries for vengeance. I've heard calls for peace and restraint, too, reminders that we can't tar all followers of a religion with the same brush. When I shared one, a Jewish acquaintance accused me of 'making excuses for them', spewed a load of hatred for Muslims in general and deleted me on Facebook. Well, frankly, good fucking riddance.
My partner works for a French company, in a major British city. She's nervous about going to work today. I'm nervous for her going to work today.
I don't know what to do or to say or to think or to hope for. I wish I could say something wise and kind and healing, but this is all I've got. Fuck people who slaughter the innocent. Fuck them. Whether they do it with suicide vests or machine guns or missiles or cluster bombs or drone strikes or whatever. Fuck them.
What matters is kindness; what matters is love. In Kurt Vonnegut's words: 'There's only one rule I know of, babies: God damn it, you've got to be kind.'
Beyond that, I got nothing.
Look after yourselves; look after each other.
Now I'm going to try to do some work, for whatever it may be worth.