Just Curious
Just Curious
If you read the news...
How is anyone anti-Semitic "by mistake"?
Granted. Hatred does seem to be a mistake - even when it's an understandable one. This kind doesn't strike us as that particular kind. The kind folks feel towards someone who kills, for example. No. This hate was directed toward an entire population of people who are as diverse as any. It was a mindless, awful recitation of the worst mankind serves back to itself.
Maybe praying for the temporary nature of it - of hatred - can make us closer to that impossible, flawless ideal. Maybe.
Too, perhaps Lt. Gen. Flynn misspoke. Not in the way he professes. We think the sentiment is there and that, perhaps, the "mistake" was the foolish thought that only people of like minds would read what he wrote. People who require imported hate.
Apropos of this and completely not...
A long time ago, when fame curled its sinewy arms first around our neck, we tried to describe its ugliness, the shock of it to our Mother.
"But, Mama!", we cried out naively, "They go through our trash!"
She paused before her studied reply.
"Well, honey, make 'em think you've got cats."
If you read the news...
How is anyone anti-Semitic "by mistake"?
Granted. Hatred does seem to be a mistake - even when it's an understandable one. This kind doesn't strike us as that particular kind. The kind folks feel towards someone who kills, for example. No. This hate was directed toward an entire population of people who are as diverse as any. It was a mindless, awful recitation of the worst mankind serves back to itself.
Maybe praying for the temporary nature of it - of hatred - can make us closer to that impossible, flawless ideal. Maybe.
Too, perhaps Lt. Gen. Flynn misspoke. Not in the way he professes. We think the sentiment is there and that, perhaps, the "mistake" was the foolish thought that only people of like minds would read what he wrote. People who require imported hate.
Apropos of this and completely not...
A long time ago, when fame curled its sinewy arms first around our neck, we tried to describe its ugliness, the shock of it to our Mother.
"But, Mama!", we cried out naively, "They go through our trash!"
She paused before her studied reply.
"Well, honey, make 'em think you've got cats."
posted by Dustin at
11:21 AM 
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