Wednesday, January 14, 2015


We learned our vernacular of hate from our mothers and our fathers.

We learned to be afraid of strangers and those who looked different to us. Those whose god's names were unfamiliar.

We learned to create weapons of mass distruction under the aegis of defending peace. We spent billions of dollars on shiny jets to transport our weapons while millions starved or were killed by the mosquito.

And then one day we realised this was not sustainable. In fact, by any definition this was actually insane. We were spending billions of dollars on weapons and the result was the opposite of our intentions and the promises of our kings and queens and elected "leaders" - more war, more fatalities, more "collateral damage" and more fear.

Eventually we had all had enough. (Except the corporations getting rich selling weapons.) We expressed our solidarity, our frustrations, our disappointment with those in charg by taking to the streets.

Around the world, pacifists from all religions, farmers, greenies, hippies, hipsters, hotrodders and even leather clad punk Anarchists were on the same page. And in my town they ambled in the summer heat, dripping and chanting together along the main road in the shadow of an old volcano covered with wooden houses. "Not in my name!" "Je suis charlie"


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