War Dream

Last night I had a com­plete­ly awful dream. We were about to start a war. I was walk­ing down the hall­way and the guys were in the lounge watch­ing The Toob . On it was one Show­down: Iraq now report­ing on the imma­nent emi­nent immi­nent ini­tial US strikes. I was only ten when the 1st Gulf War began, and I watched it begin in night-vision on CNN. Trac­ers, flares and fuzzy-voiced com­men­ta­tors. What I saw on The Toob was quite sim­i­lar to this, except in bet­ter digital/satellite qual­i­ty. Appar­ent­ly we had­n’t start­ed bomb­ing yet, and all of the anti-air­craft fire was just for show to scare our pilots away. We were wait­ing for 10 or 15 more of some­thing before we began to attack. i fig­ured we’d already began it and the media were just try­ing to see how much they could con­vince us of.

that’s all i remem­ber. what makes this awful is that the war which no one wants looks like it could still hap­pen, and that all the months of talk about it has result­ed in night­mares for me. I don’t blame Sad­dam Hus­sein for this fear. I blame Dubya, and the media for fear­mon­ger­ing and scar­ing scar­ing scar­ring the Amer­i­can pub­lic about what Iraq could do, some­day. As a per­son who has nev­er expe­ri­enced the true effects of war, I feel uncom­fort­able say­ing this next thing, but will say it any­way. For me, liv­ing per­ma­nent­ly on the edge of war is a much more sub­tle ter­ror­ism than liv­ing in the midst of war itself.

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