caerula's Diaryland Diary

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on Dover Beach

I'm tired of seeing Bush near tears on tv. It doesn't make me relate to him more, it makes me more annoyed with him. Damnit, he's the leader. Where's our strong, jut-jawed, grim-faced president from the disaster movies? Where's Harrison Ford, flinging terrorists out of airplanes? Where's Martin Sheen? Where's Brian Boitano, even? I don't want someone who says we're going to "whip" terrorism, that makes it sound like a football game.

I don't want to think about what "a sustained war against terrorism" means. Afganistan is warning revenge if the U.S. attacks them. The Taliban says Muslims should unite against the U.S. I would be happy to see the Taliban destroyed; their atrocities against women alone have been tremendous. But since the U.S. has now apparently "lost track" of bin Laden (how big a country IS Afganistan, anyway, that they can't keep tabs on this guy?) what are we going to do, just randomly bomb them and hope one lands on him? We already found out during the Gulf War that we are unlikely to be that lucky.

And now this is apparently the "first war" of the 21st century. Great. Does that mean there will be others? The way Bush said it made it sound inevitable. And he said war has been declared. No it hasn't, and I'll thank you to shut up about it until it has. That's all I need my eight-year-old hearing. He's already got his GI Joes lined up on his windowsill to protect him.

And now we've got Falwell saying it's our own fault. God has withdrawn his protection from us because we've become so immoral. Oh, but that's not really what he meant. Sorry. Must have misunderstood that bit about "the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians ... the ACLU, People For the American Way ... I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen.'" I'm sorry, Jerry, I can't understand how we could think you were accusing them of anything.


I have to write about something else, however briefly and superficially. We went to YMB's open house last night. His teacher seems a very nice and pleasant woman; I was disconcerted to discover that she was born in 1976! Dementors were there, of course, and I did exult briefly when they mentioned that with traffic and all it had taken them three hours to get there. Now maybe they know a bit how we always felt. Not that they care, but the inconvenience to them makes me gloat a little. Even recent events have not inspired within me any milk of human kindness for those people.

We planned to go to the Renaissance Festival this weekend, but realized last night after going over bills that we can't afford it. SmartKid and Buttercup are going on Sunday with their parents, and maybe they'll take YMB with them, so he's not disappointed. We can probably scrape 20 bucks together for his admission and food and stuff, we just can't afford for all of us to go. It sucks, but until Blue gets a full two weeks paycheck from the hotel, we'll be tight. So a couple more weeks, and then maybe we'll be okay. Maybe, provided no other financial emergencies come up. I'm tired of worrying about money.

But at least I'm alive to worry about it, and so is Blue.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
~ Matthew Arnold

10:15 a.m. - 2001-09-14

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