A night like this

Oh ho ho, I want to change it all. Oh ho ho, I want to change. Is it ironic that a band called The Cure wrote those words?

I do wish for the ability to change things at will. Not things like my bank account (not that I’d mind that, either, but that’s the exact opposite of the point I’m trying to make), but things like how people get along or treat each other. Sure, it’d be nice to reach as far back as the early Zionist movement more than 80 years ago and prevent the hatred that spawned the characterization of the Middle East for two generations. It’d also be nice to change the way George W. Bush feels about renewable energy industries, which could possibly affect that other conflict in the Middle East. That is to say, if I could make people like each other, Arabs wouldn’t have minded giving up their lands to Zionists. Palestine and Israel would be happy neighbors and best friends. In all honesty, however, I really don’t fully grasp what I’m talking about. Admittedly, I’m no expert on Middle Eastern relations. I do worry about living in a world where parents raise their children to hate other children. Those children become strong, eager young men and women, ready and willing to kill each other. Why do they have to kill and be killed? They didn’t start this conflict. Instead, they do what they feel is right and holy and just. Thinking about the conflict between Israel and Palestine always ends in a quote I ponder: If you want peace, work for justice. (Pope Paul VI said that, by the way.) Palestinian and Israeli children will only grow up in peace when the conflict is ultimately settled with justice. Who’s to say what’s just, though?

I’m going to a thing in a few weeks. Lots of people will be there. I wish I knew now that I’d be able to control how people will treat each other.

Wait. The hell? Did I just somehow make a mental leap from conflict avoidance in my life to peace in the Middle East and back again? With a little dig at no-war-for-oil thrown in for flavor? Egomania: Not just for weblogs any more, kids. Forgive me, all. My heart’s in a good place, even if my typed rantings lead me meandering in woods where I’ve no right to be.


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