Death of a Terrorist...Death of a Fellow Human Being?

Am I pleased that the man is dead? I am pleased that he no longer poses a threat to innocent people everywhere. But I do not rejoice in death. I rejoice in life. Sometimes, however, it is necessary for certain people to die in order for other people to live. By live I mean live without being in constant fear of damage to their life or freedom. Osama bin Laden lived by the sword and now he has died by the sword. But is this justice?

I am offended by images on television of people gathered in the streets celebrating murder. Whether it is in Somalia, Afghanistan, or New York City. Those who go to war must be prepared to meet a warrior's end. Call it terrorism or a police action or an operation, but it is still war. When opposing forces meet with guns, it is war. We see war all over the world. Many people die by war as active participants, and many die as innocent bystanders. If those who die are fighting on the side of family, freedom, and justice then I mourn their death. If they are fighting against family, freedom, and justice then I feel less grief because of some sense of human justice. But is this truly justice?

All people are children of God. We are all born as helpless babies dependent upon the care of parents. I believe this is the first inalienable right of all human life: the right to be cared for by two parents, mother and father. Too many (one is too many) children are deprived of this right. I mourn for these most of all. The point is that life is sacred and all people begin in the same fashion. Throughout our lives we shape ourselves to match what we have been taught and in accordance with what we believe we want to achieve or to become some day.

We are free to choose how we will respond to the given choices we are faced with. There is always opposition, and we are always free to choose between the various sides opposed. To some extent we are able to choose the options we will face in the future by making choices in the present, but sometimes our choices are determined by the choices of others. Unfortunately, many people use their ability to choose to inflict damage on other people. But is there a point when their choices stop them from being human like everyone else?

Osama bin Laden was evil. Anyone who seeks the death and destruction of another person or group is evil. That is to say, they are following an evil influence. I might add that those who celebrate the death of other people in the streets, even if the dead are their enemies (perhaps especially in this case), are also following an evil influence. Please do not be offended, I am simply working through a thought process, and at any rate, these are only my personal beliefs.

In my mind I keep seeing two scenes flash back and forth. First, the scene of a Navy sailor kissing a woman in Times Square, celebrating - if I remember correctly - the victory in Europe during World War II. The second scene is of college-aged Americans rambunctiously gathering outside the White House following the announcement of the death of bin Laden. I don't feel the same reaction to each scene. Perhaps some of that difference is tradition. Are these two causes of celebration equal?

Where is justice best served? In courtrooms, on battlefields, or in Heaven (used as a collective term to denote the place where God lives)? Thinking back to how we all start out as innocent babies and then turn into various sorts of adults, I wonder if any of us are capable of issuing pure justice. Our varied experiences and the paths we choose to follow don't give us equal perception or standards of truth. This is one of the logical reasons I see that support the belief of one God and one truth. Anything generated from man is imperfect and subject to bias. Only God can bestow an objective truth and justice system upon mankind (in my subjective opinion). Street celebrations over the death of a person, even a terrorist, gives me pause to wonder if justice is being served.

Supposing that we can establish a reasonable point of justice, where is the line between justice and vengeance or revenge? How does the death of a murderer fix the death of the victim who he murdered? An eye for an eye? The Law of Moses was fulfilled by Jesus Christ, who then issued a higher law. Love one another. Do good to them who curse you. Love your enemies. Forgive. If they offend you again, forgive again, until seventy times seven. I despise acts of terrorism. I am saddened by the perpetrators of it, but I also feel sadness for the loss of their lives. I worry about us if we find pleasure in the demise of someone else. Why must one person suffer in order for another to feel better?

I hadn't intended that last question to be profound, but to me it is. I don't know the answer to why, but I do know that One did suffer so that others could feel better. Jesus Christ did. And because he did, no matter what the suffering we experience, we can feel better if we turn to Him. But this differs from what my original intent was with that question. I was questioning how a person victimized by bin Laden would need bin Laden to die in order for them to feel better. I think the answer is bad pride.

When we do bad things there are two aspects, intent and act. This is prevalent in the criminal justice system as well as in religion. A person must understand a law and have the desire to go against it in order to have criminal intent. This is the same within religion. A person must have a knowledge of the commandments (the law) and then desire to do an act contrary to that understanding in order to commit sin. In either case, it could be said that the root problem is disregard for the law. If you boil that down, it is disregard for the law giver. Terrorists have a disregard for humanity. Criminals have a disregard for legislated laws (or at least a desire to get something that overwhelms their regard for legislated laws, but then we are getting into theory). Sinners have a disregard for God's law.

In regards to legislated laws, I think there are degrees of crime. The act is important to factor into the process of justice. Speeding tickets are not the same as drug possession and neither of these is the same as murder. However, when you are talking about sin, the root of the problem, which is fighting against God, is possibly the same level of seriousness in most instances of sin, if not all. What I am trying to say is that the attitude with which we do things is the key factor. Yes, murder is worse than stealing candy, but in the extreme, both show a disregard for laws, either man made or God given.

What does this have to do with celebrating the death of bin Laden? Perhaps nothing. Sometimes one thought leads to another without any clear connection. Maybe none of this is relevant or substantial. Or perhaps the attitude with which we take to the streets chanting and celebrating the death of a person, no matter how heinous his behavior had been, is the same attitude that leads people to reject God's love and guidance. Two final thoughts: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, and check yourself before you wreck yourself.

Nothing Like Pain to Inspire a Blog Post

In roughly two minutes the time will be {ding} 3:00 AM. It has been only 4 months since the last time I had a post like this. I believe it was Christmas eve when I awoke in the middle of the night with some malady or other that prevented sleep. It has happened once again. Only this time, medicine has now all but eliminated any pain and discomfiture. I probably ought to sleep for the remaining 3 hours before my usual wake up time, but I've already turned my computer on and opened this page and started typing.
It was midnight-thirty when I first looked at the time after waking up with a horrible (pronounced "har-uh-bull") headache. Unlike any head pain I have ever experienced before. Centralized to the back of my head, just above my neck. Cerebellum area, if you are so inclined and oriented. The pain was bad, but I remained in a sleep-like state for about an hour. Sometime after 1:30 I was fully awake.
I debated in my head for several minutes if this was an ER type headache or not. I don't know much about headaches, or medical stuff in general, but I know that headaches sometimes are indicators of some serious problems. Add in the fact that this one came on suddenly, woke me up, and didn't have any obvious influencer (as in a cartoonish mallet to the head), and you've got the recipe for me being terrified that I'm about to pick up a hospital bill for 2 grand to get my brain scanned. I rationalized that if it got to the point of going to the hospital then I would go, after all, it is better to be in debt than to be interred.
I debated a bit and then took some Aleve. Another hour of agony left me wondering if it was then time to go to the ER. I put some socks on in preparation of going. I also texted Muffin Man because he lives in Hawaii and it was only evening time for him. He replied, but couldn't talk because he was out running the "Hawaii Five-O," a local charity 5k run. Even though he was in a charity run he still returned my text message, that's friendship! I offered some words of encouragement to get him through the mid-run doldrums and then decided I'd check out Facebook.
I read a few comments, made a few comments, and then decided to write this post. Somewhere in that process the pain in my head finally began to dissipate. A warm, almost soothing sensation has taken its place. Also, whereas sleep had fled my eyes for the duration of the pain, it has now returned. Since I have no real message to convey here, and the pain that was preventing sleep is now over, I suppose I will go back to bed.
To quote a classic, "it's too late to say good night, so Good Mornin'!"

Ajax and Taylor, Sitting in a Tree...

You all know how much I love to live my life according to nursery rhymes and other types of rhymes (such as commercial jingles), so in the spirit of that, I must live up to this one:
Ajax and Taylor, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g (though we have never sat in a tree together),
first comes love (check!),
then comes marriage (this is the one we are going to discuss)...
Well, you know the rest. We have accomplished the love part of the rhyme, it is on to the "then comes marriage" part. We are getting married in July. The 19th to be exact. We are both very excited.
We both feel like there has been some divine guidance in our meeting and we are both very happy that we have conducted ourselves as we have to be full beneficiaries of that guidance. Our first date was February 26th, and the formal proposal (complete with bestowal of ring) happened on April 21st. Fast? Perhaps. A year or so ago I would have said it was fast. Four months ago I would have said "not me, boy!" But I hadn't met Taylor. It is one of those situations that you just don't know until you are there. And I am there.
I've never been so comfortable or happy with someone as I am with Taylor, and right from the start. The first night we met was in a group and I was declaring my supremacy over everyone because I was the oldest. Something I often do when this is the case. Later, I noticed a walker, not a person adept at slowly maneuvering their body, but a metal device designed to assist such a person in their transportation endeavors. I shouted to the group "Whose walker is this?" Just as I did the words "probably mine because I'm so old" came to mind. Simultaneously "probably yours because you are so old" was shouted back by Taylor. I had already taken an interest in her from the time we had been around each other that evening, but this sealed it for me. Her quick, witty retort was all I needed to hear.
I am in love with her. I am filled with gratitude and joy every time I get to be with her.

This and/or That

A few weeks ago I was watching something, ah yes! it was 21 Jump Street. Taylor mentioned her fascination with the old television program and I professed a personal interest in it as well. It is one of our many uniting interests. I remember one summer, perhaps in 1991, I don't know, 21 Jump Street was on every morning for two hours. My brother and I ritualistically watched the show before heading out into the yard to enjoy summer vacation. What a fantastic show.

For those of you not familiar with it, the premise of the show is a group of young looking police officers who work undercover in high schools. It might happen in real life, but never with as much cool and style as on the show. Did I mention Johnny Depp plays one of the officers? And Jerry Seinfeld's TV dad plays his training officer in the pilot episode! Gold! Mr. X from the X-Files is part of the cast as well, all around perfection. If you want a procedurally accurate police show, stay away from television, those don't exist. But if you want melodrama dripping from every bit of dialogue and every trend setting article of clothing this is your show.

The whole point of mentioning this was to tell you about an idea that an episode of 21 Jump Street gave me. It didn't actually give me the idea, I generated the idea based on something that was said on the show in conjunction with my own creativity and wit. You see, one of the characters expressed that all he wanted was to see justice done. To which my brain responded with a scene where a police officer leads a man in handcuffs to a door. On the large glass window of the door the following is stenciled "Justice Howard H. Dunn." The caption on the scene is the cuffed man saying "This isn't what I meant when I said I wanted to see justice done."

I thought it was pretty clever and humorous. But that is how I view most things I say and think. I just can't help it.

Cue the Tip-toeing Cartoon Villain Music

I am going to type this up really fast. I have somewhere to be tonight. It rained today, after it snowed, so it was kind of slushy and slippery. As Lane and I headed out for lunch, I was walking closer to the building where it wasn't so slushy, and he commented "it is slippery." I said it wasn't slippery where I was walking, so he walked over towards the side, and I walked out further from the building. I then said "it is slippery." Perhaps there was an emphasis on the word "is" when I said it, as though it were in italics, but maybe I didn't say it any differently than Lane. With the rain coming down, however lightly it may have been, my hood went up. I have a very lightweight hood that rolls up into the collar of the coat. It is a winter coat and does a fine job at keeping me dry and warm. The hood is too flimsy to be much good in any kind of wind, or while walking with any swiftness, which is my preferred mode of walking. When I was at school it was always windy and I was always walking with a swiftness, yes, a swiftness, so my hood would bounce around and blow away from covering my head whenever I tried to use it, so I stopped trying. Unless it was really raining, in which case I would use the hood and just hold it down in the front, pinched between index finger and thumb. I think it is ridiculous to have to hold a hood. If I wanted to hold something I'd buy an umbrella. And if I could remember to buy an umbrella I wouldn't have to hold my hood. Vicious circle, I know. The reason I mention this is because of a thought that came to mind a few days ago. I went with my girlfriend, Taylor (codename for her in this blog), and another friend to see Brian Regan perform his comedy routine in Boston. Boston, MA in case you were wondering. Brian Regan is hilarious. After the show I suppose I was in a comedic observation type of mood so I was doing my best to keep the laughs coming as we were headed back to the car. There was a woman at the bottom of the stairs next to the exit door, ushering us out into a back alley filled with boxes of empty beer bottles and a mop bucket. I remember making some comment about the situation, thinking it to be very clever and humorous, but I can't seem to recall it right now. It makes no difference as that wasn't the joke I wanted to retell here in hopes of getting more laughs. Also, I don't have time, I have somewhere to be tonight. Anyway, it was raining. We were pushed out into the alley and into the rain. I pulled my hood up and it did the bouncing routine so that I had to hold it if I wanted the protection. And that is when I realized that I was like a cartoon villain. And I said as much to Taylor, recounting my many experiences of fighting my hood while leaving work for lunch over the last few months. I have to keep the hood pulled down on my head so that I can stay dry, but as I do this I lose all ability to see anything but the ground several feet in front of me. Generally, this is fine, but not when it comes time to cross the street. When I reach a crossing point I have to A) throw back the hood in some heroic fashion in order to scan the roadway, or B) keep the hood pulled down and do a full body turn in each direction I want to look, not unlike Batman in his stiff-necked Batman cowl. It's called a cowl, right? For some reason, one that escapes me now (perhaps that overwhelming desire to mimic Brian Regan's joke making ability, which I felt leaving the theater?), I thought that the image of me throwing back the hood to look both ways at the crosswalk, and then covering my head again was reminiscent of cartoon villains. As I think about it now, it is more like when someone in a cartoon, or campy movie, is trying to sneak past someone else under cover of a ridiculously large and noticeable object. At the time i suggested "cartoon villain" and enacted a tiptoeing type walk with my hood pulled over my eyes, then I'd stop, throw the hood back and look around, re-cover my head and tiptoe further along the sidewalk. The Flintstones tinkling toes sound came to mind. Which makes me think now that the similarity is more like the cartoon character who hides under a rock and less like the cartoon villain who is creeping around. Well, I don't know anymore, and like I said, I have somewhere to be tonight.