Marching To Be Heard

Climatemarch31I woke up this morning, opened my laptop, tuned into Democracy Now as I do most days, eager to know if we’ve been able to retain what little humanity we have left, or if our de-evolutionary course has taken a dramatic and deadly turn for the worse. Yesterday I was met with the blossoming Palestinian-Israeli conflict; the trifecta of U.S.-Ukrainian-Russian entanglement; the poor and starving children of America—thank youFrontline, I would have never known about any of them if it weren’t for you! That, and the current idiotic plan (one of many) that Paul Ryan is pushing to validate himself politically; the continual threat of lawsuit and impeachment of our President from the wing-nutty political mouth pieces: Speaker of the House Boehner, who I try not to mention by name because I will break out in hives (not as bad as the hives caused by that other one—McCain’s Alaskan running mate for president in 2008). No, please don’t say her name for Pete’s sake; I’ll start itching like a flea-bitten dog. Where was I? No, I’m not talking about Republicans, who after 50-plus failed attempts to repeal Obamacare, are now vengefully trying to kill our healthcare law over a typo. Just add “and federal exchanges” in pen, initial it, and be done! By the way, how much is all this horse play costing us? By “us” I mean taxpayers (I’m unemployed).

Basically, nothing has changed from yesterday. More bloodshed in Palestine: we’re over 700 dead and rising. Where are the voices of outrage against this horrific indifference to life! Only the independents dare reportIsrael’s attempts to annihilate a race. I guess our persecuted chosen are returning the favors of old.

After getting through this apocalyptic news storm, I go to Bryant Park for some fresh air. And after a few hours of writing, I stretch onto a bed of soft, green grass for a nap.

An hour slips by and a rhythmic chanting invades my dreams and arouses me from my slumber. Slightly annoyed and bleary-eyed, I follow my nose to see zillions of Palestinian “terrorists” whooping and hollering on their march to lay siege the Israeli consulate (kidding). I slip into the crowd of organized protestors easily enough. There are a few claustrophobic/musky smelly moments when we are blockaded by the Do-Not-Walk signals at the corner crosswalks, but the camaraderie gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling. And I assume a white male in the mix is a welcome support. Why am I here? (I don’t even like their food…I’m not even sure what their food is). Perhaps I serve as a reminder that they are not alone in America. I see an Irish-looking lass, and a few “real” Jewish fellows in the crowd—the ones with curly sideburns, beards, all-black garb, and big hats, suffering the summer heat for their religious freedom. Waves of young and old, male and female Palestinians dressed in traditional and contemporary clothing inundate us, and we join in their efforts to save their brothers and sisters. Will the march make anything better, or will it prove only to soothe a frustrating impudence?

There are a few rowdy marchers: “Take it to the streets!” “Keep going. Fuck the cars!” But no one follows their lead. The protestors are observant of the cops’ need for order; the cops are respectful of the protestors’ need to voice their opinions. Everyone stays safe. I can understand the few youths who want to rabble rouse; the frustration they must feel from not being able to wave a magic wand and cease the senselessness… Every day the death toll rises, bodies break down, nerves shred, wounds open, blood pours, and hearts die.

I try hard to empathize with the Palestinians’ pain. I think back on my past losses: family, friends, relationships, businesses, wealth, and purpose—all the disappointments of life. I wonder if all that could ever compare to the Palestinian suffering in Gaza. Can the full weight of their misery—everything from death of friends and family, destruction of homes, travel restrictions, check points, blockades, and general loss of hope from this senseless violence ever be understood?

Israel’s heavy-handed abuse is becoming clearer, it’s seeping its way into the mainstream, filtered media, although not rapidly enough. It can’t be ignored, at least not completely. The truth is an evolutionary process.Intelligent conversation fiercely battles powerful interests wanting to rewrite history. It’s a very hard fought battle, indeed. Watch Hannity or any of the Fox entertainers. Why not enlighten the world with the truth? Grow and enrich our people with educated discussion? It’s as hard for any of us to look in the mirror. History books of untruths are written to secure narratives of a prettier world or to polish a legacy. Objectives are not always clear and are often buried. Power and money speak the loudest.

Is that all there is for me to do, after a great study of the situation, is to be thankful that I am not one of them? Singularly yes, but at least I am not slighting them further nor rationalizing my do-nothing guilt away. Are we to wait in the aftermath for the truth to crawl out from under the rubble for the masses to make a change? I don’t believe I could ever bounce back from such inhumanity. Humanity is difficult to hang on to as it is; if I had to endure such intolerable conditions, humanity would certainly slip from my grasp and ferment into an ugliness that would eat me up like cancer, make me insane, or suicidal. Not that it is doing me a world of good watching the horrors of an uncivilized world in action.

At the finish of this article, this day August 2, 2014, the death toll is 1712, 1.8 mil displaced.