Nostalgia for bin Laden - those were the days.

Happy Sunday. This is just a rant:

This morning I was listening to a podcast, which is generally about the CIA and spying. The subject matter was Tracy Walders, who was recruited out of college to work at the CIA. From her statements it seems like she had absolutely no special qualities, but obviously they saw something in her. I've seen a picture and she's very pretty (nicknamed at one time at least "Malibu Barbie") but one hopes that's not why they make their decisions - although, we are all used to disappointment. She was still relatively new to the job, and it her first day in what is known as the Vault, doing counter terrorism, when 9/11 happened. She worked on bin Laden et all and the team was often visited by not only Tenet, the CIA head, but by Pres. Bush and VP. Cheney. She was there for Bora Bora, from where bin Laden barely escaped. 

Eventually, she went to work for the FBI in counter-terrorism. Eventually, she had enough and became a school-teacher like she planned before she dropped her resume off with the CIA, who now writes about her life in spying. She said almost everything she did was classified so she can only give very general information about much of it and am given to understand her book is heavily redacted. And she does not really talk about anything special she did except in very veiled terms -  just writes about what was happening then in that world and so much as she can about herself, which is dramatic enough.

But while I was listening to it, I got this great sense of nostalgic unease about how simple things were then - though it did not seem so at the time. We were at least a reasonably united country and we had an enemy - al-Qaeda. We invaded Afghanistan and Iraq and some people were very against, some for. We probably all agree whether it was justified or not, it was a disaster the way they did it.

But we were all one country when we were attacked. And though we may have been divided politically - it has always been so, and sometimes much, much more so - I really do think at that time we still had more in common than when we had in differences, even if it did not seem so at the time. Not anymore.

And then I just sat there thinking about Victor Davis Hanson's book, The Dying Citizen, which I'm reading, and Woke Racism by John McWhorter, which I recently finished, and all the constant writing I do myself on the left-wing fascist attacks on the country, day after day, and it started to feel overwhelming. My attitude has always been you have to be happy even when everything is wrong. But, don't have to tell anyone reading this, the last 2 years it has been much harder to do that.

Two conversations this past week disturb me a little. One was via email with a friend who's very liberal, about, in his view, pretty much how the "evil" Republicans are ruining the country (I guess, by saving unborn babies and allowing people to protect themselves in public) and how he predicted it when Trump's judges were confirmed. He's just livid about it and for all I know is no longer talking to me. We'll see. It has happened before. Never with anyone to the right of me, only to the left.

The other conversation was on the phone with my brother, and though it was very pleasant, as it almost always is, he is convinced, as is my friend, that Republicans are evil and they know how to fight so much dirtier than Democrats do. I laugh and say I feel completely the opposite and I can name dozens and dozens of examples. I know they cannot name any except if they make it up or just go with some conspiracy theory like Trump tried to have a coup, but I am sure they would disagree. I asked both if they could answer a question - actually, I said they could not and would ignore it - if a loved one was in peril of death, would you wish you had a gun and would use it or would you be happy you didn't have one and watch your loved one die or be raped and be proud you didn't have a gun. Neither answered (actually each got slightly different versions - but same result).

So, I'm sitting today in the bagel store and a guy, little younger than me, tells me how his wife of seven years who he swears he never had a single argument with, was stabbed to death by her own son, who was a pothead and was furious that she took his pot and phone away.  The guy himself was at work (when I went home I went on the internet and confirmed all of this). He mourned for a while and then he met someone out of the country and moved on. He didn't want to date anyone local who would have a million questions and who would wonder how he was going to move on from such a tragedy. So, he went out of the country and is married to a South American woman who grew up during the Pablo years and for whom tragedy was pretty normal. They live in both countries. He's happy, but now worried about both homelands, as Colombia recently elected a socialist leader. I guess the country wants to be like Venezuela.

So, in the few minutes span between the podcast and the murder story, I started remembering how lucky I was that my daughter was so easy to raise and how little trauma I've had in my whole life, how easy our lives are and how great a country we can still be. From the early '80s through about 2008 (hmmm, who was elected then?) it was amazing.

And then there's a friend who let me know how he reached out to a daughter with affection, asking her to keep safe at a pro-choice rally. She reacted with rage, chiding him for being a Republican, essentially mocking him. He reacted with more affection and I'm afraid lied to her about his political beliefs. Didn't go over well. She got more abusive, though I think she believes she is a freedom fighter. He's hurt and angry.

Every day I want to do something to help the world and I know there's very little I can do. Boycotting many woke companies (a few I can't without crippling myself and it galls me) and writing here are pretty much it. And now I'm thinking of the Mel Gibson/Linda Hunt movie, The Year of Living Dangerously, and the idea that you "[d]on't think about the major issues. You do what you can about the misery in front of you. You add your light to the sum of all light." I feel I used to try to do that, but since the troubles, I don't think that I do that very much anymore. More doom and gloom from me and "did you hear about . . .?" 

My blog used to be about history, art and science. Now, it is about modern fascism and . . . more fascism. But what do you do? Bury your head in the sand and think it will pass you by? Almost everyone I know wants to and I don't blame them. They are afraid and have needs - they still want a normal life and think it's a better chance to keep their heads down. But, it will not help them or their kids. When people ask me why I am bothering to boycott I say I am fighting fascism one day at a time. It's just a slogan, but I pretty much mean it. I wish everyone would join me. Boycott and express yourself. 

And, I'll keep writing because I do it to express myself and in the hopes that maybe I can change the mind of a few people. A few is great really, because it is very hard to change even one person's mind. Sometimes it takes years.

No moral here. It's a confusing world. I'll leave off with my favorite line from one of my favorite musicals. I'm sure I've quoted it her before:

God would like us to be joyful
Even though our hearts lie panting on the floor;
How much more can we be joyful,
When there's really something
To be joyful for.

I know, weird choice for an atheist, but it's the thought that counts.