Am I awake?
She came at me. That’s it.
We were talking… or, I was talking; I was telling her about my day.
It had been an excedingly strange day to that point; all sorts of improbable things had been happening. My car stopped working in the middle of the freeway at 80 mph. That wasn’t too weird; it’s an old car and the engine just stopped. I put the clutch in and, cursing mildly, coasted; looking for a chance to merge into the right lane. Then this big ole’ Mac truck comes up behind me, and looks to clobber me right there in the middle lane. I mean, it was moving. I was pretty sure I was going to die. And it hit me. But instead of a crunch, I felt a slight jerk and all of a sudden I’m going as fast as the truck, because it's pushing me… and my engine is running again as well as it ever does. The trucker waves at me in my rear-view mirror and slows down, and I drive off.
I know. The details don’t add up. First, when was the last time you saw a semi going 110 mph? How did it hit me without damaging my car or sending me clean off the road? Why did my engine start back up? But what really gets me, is why did I then keep going as if nothing unusual had happened? I didn’t stop to check for damage, I didn’t take the next exit, I didn’t even end up changing lanes. I just waved happily to the trucker, who by all rights should have just killed me, and kept going.
I didn’t even get home late.
Okay, so you don’t know me. To you this probably sounds odd, a bit off, maybe even scary. But not to me; to me this is truly bizarre. There is a reason my car still runs after 340,000 miles. I take meticulous care of it; I would stop if I ran over a medium size rock on the freeway to make sure my tire is okay. I’m downright anal about my car. But not that day: that day, my engine stopped on the freeway, a huge truck slammed into me, and I didn’t stop, I just drove calmly home. I don’t even think I looked at the bumper when I got there. Who was I?
When I did get home, I took a nap. I wasn’t tired; I remember that I wasn’t tired because I said that out loud to her: “Theresa, I’m not at all tired. I’m just going to take a nap.” That’s what I said. I wasn’t upset… in fact, I can’t explain it at all. I just took out the milk and a glass for myself, and then laid down on the kitchen floor and took a nap.
When I woke up it was twilight, and Theresa was still there waiting expectantly. She saw me wake up, and said, “How are you?” She’s cute that way; I taught her to talk while she was just a chickling. So I start to tell her my day; the 15 minute phone call in the morning, where neither of us said a single word the whole time, the fact that I forgot to eat lunch, but still found that I had spilled ketchup on my shirt, and then the freeway incident.
That’s when she came at me. Don’t ask me to explain how; she was in her cage, with the doors latched. Then she was flying at me screeching in a way I’ve never heard before; as if a stranger had her and was pulling out her feathers by the fistful. I can tell you with complete sincerity that I have never been as freaked out in my life as when that little bird came streaking at me with that blood-curdling scream. It was as if Theresa was gone, and a demon from the mythic underworld… no, that’s not right; the reason I still live this moment over and over again, is because Theresa wasn’t gone. I could see it in her eyes; she was there. And it was her, my beloved pet, who was screaming in terrible agony, and hatred, and malice as she came at me. She came at me, and attacked my face… a very personal attack. I still feel like I am shaking all over (though I can’t be) when I remember it. Please don’t ask me about her anymore.
Then everything stopped. Then I was here.
That’s what I remember; here’s what I’ve been told:
I was found in my house, on the kitchen floor. I was paralyzed from a broken neck. They tell me that whatever broke my neck severed the spinal cord immediately, so that I would have felt no pain from my shattered left leg, broken ribs, crushed pelvis and dislocated shoulder. They also tell me that the cuts on my face were not clean cuts, but ragged tears that seemed to have been caused by an exotic bird… but not Theresa, who was found safely locked up in her cage contentedly asking the paramedics, “How are you?”
What they don’t tell me is how I ended up on the floor of my third-floor apartment, with a severely totaled car parked neatly in the garage… except for the rear axle which was blocking the flow of traffic ten miles away on I26. These seem like important details to me, but no one seems to hear when I ask.
It would all make more sense if I were dreaming. But how can I tell? I can’t pinch myself, but I’ve had dreams since where I could pinch myself. Each time I do, I wake up, and each time I wake up, I’m here in this world where nothing makes sense. How can I possibly prove to myself that this is real? How would I know the proof wasn’t a dream? What proof that I am awake could I possibly dream up… that I wouldn’t be able to dream of? Please tell me.
Am I awake?
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Monday, April 22, 2013
Boston, and Our Vulnerability to Terrorism.
If you’ve looked through my blog history, it is clear that I have neglected my blog for quite some time. My life has changed significantly since last I wrote. I finished grad school, Ann gave birth to our daughter (let’s say her name is pTerry), I have a new job, Ann has a new job, and we’re moving soon. I’ll try to write about all of those things in the future; but for now, please ignore my neglect and read on as if there actually was continuity. Today I want to write about Boston and the politics of terrorism. Hmm, I managed to make that sound dry… oh well.
The past week has been crazy. Put aside (but don’t forget) the deadly explosion in Texas caused or complicated by lax regulation, zoning, and budget cuts. Put a pin in the fact that CISPA is back again despite repeated popular protest, and no popular support. Feel free to ignore (for the moment) North Korea jumping up and down in the corner. Something is disturbing me about the Boston bombing, or to be more specific, the public and political response to the whole ordeal.
First, the bombing was horrible on many levels. People and their lives were damaged and destroyed during a time of rather pure celebration. I empathize, and my heart aches for them and the situation in a way that is recognized by thousands of people who have been feeling the same way and discussing their feelings all week by way of emotional triage. That is my politically-correct statement, but also, I want my readers to understand that this is my emotional background, even if it isn’t the subject of my writing and even if I sound emotionally cold at times.
Very shortly after learning about the bombing, people in my family and other folks prominent and obscure made the point that bombing a marathon in Boston was a stupid and pointless thing to do. It could serve no one. It was clear almost immediately that the response of the people was to come together in massive support, save most of the lives of the victims, and unify in defiance of violence and fear. The kind of fierce New England neighbor-ness that Ann is always pointing out to me was evident in spades. It was as if Boston stood up as one angry body with a giant finger pointed to the sky to defy the terror and proclaim that no one can force them to fear doing whatever they want to do. No jerk with a garage bomb has the power to make them change the way they live their lives. Today, a week later, I think that most of the people of Boston and many others are stronger, and more unified, as a direct result of the bombing.
Unfortunately, I don't think it will last. Through observation, I have developed the opinion that this country is incredibly vulnerable to terrorist acts such as these. It's not that we are particularly easy to attack in this way, but that we are damaged heavily each time we are attacked. Right now the people of Boston are more tightly knit and strong, and this is a fine demonstration of the goodness of the people, and the strength of their community. However, the governing bodies of these good people are slower to react; we haven't seen the whole response yet, and I'm worried.
Eleven and a half years ago airplanes were flown into the World Trade Center. It was horrifying and destructive, and it will most likely haunt much of our generation throughout our lives. In the aftermath of the attacks, US flags sold out, the red cross had to turn away blood donors, non-profits had to turn away supply and money donations. The entire city and most of the country resolved to emerge stronger and better than they had been. No one could inspire terror in a nation so great: in defiance the country rebelled against the will of destructive agencies. The nation was more unified than any time before or since in my life. The potential of that unity was palpable.
And then, when the slower governing bodies made their response, we spent that potential. We went to war. We enacted the traitorously named patriot act without reading it. We went to war again with little reason or evidence. We renewed and expanded the patriot act; we enacted more laws to restrict our freedoms in the name of safety. We opened and used extra-legal torture/jails all around the world. We invented the TSA, and expanded their powers and budget every year despite any evidence that they have ever stopped anything bad from happening. We continue to erode free-speech and fourth amendment rights under the guise of increased safety. How many times in the last ten years have you heard the unchallengeable argument: "If it will save even one life..." used to justify some new law or regulation?
There are many examples where this phenomenon has reared its head and new restrictive laws have been enacted to prevent something that is already illegal. But I'll stick to 9-11 for now. Two weeks after the attacks, we had culprits. Shortly after that we went to war to bring the culprits to justice and blah, blah, blah (<- anti-war rant here: ask me if you're interested.) So, massive legislative overhauls, restricted freedoms, inconvenient and expensive new travel procedures, reduced privacy, eroded rights, eroded global reputation, two wars, 10 years, 7000 US soldiers, 100,000+ Iraqi and Afghani, and more than a trillion dollars later, we caught and killed Osama bin Laden. And we're not done. The US is still technically in a state of emergency (an absurd literal contradiction), we are still involved in one and a half wars, your rights are not being repaired, people are still held in jails without being charged, the TSA isn't going anywhere, and much of the world still justifiably hates us. We were attacked and we caught the bad guys. Tell me who won. Tell me who is stronger now.
And that is what I worry about with regards to Boston too. The bombing hurt people, and they almost immediately emerged stronger. They caught the suspects (presumed innocent?). There is healing that needs to happen now, but what else will we do? What will we give up to make sure it never happens again? It is good that the people can emerge stronger from an act of terror, but what are we teaching the bad people of the world when we are so willing to harm ourselves in response? So, today, the (still hurting and still healing) people of Boston are stronger and closer; but I don't think we'll know how much the bombers really hurt us until the next Boston marathon.
It took me most of my life to date, but now I think I understand: the only thing we have to fear, is fear itself.
The past week has been crazy. Put aside (but don’t forget) the deadly explosion in Texas caused or complicated by lax regulation, zoning, and budget cuts. Put a pin in the fact that CISPA is back again despite repeated popular protest, and no popular support. Feel free to ignore (for the moment) North Korea jumping up and down in the corner. Something is disturbing me about the Boston bombing, or to be more specific, the public and political response to the whole ordeal.
First, the bombing was horrible on many levels. People and their lives were damaged and destroyed during a time of rather pure celebration. I empathize, and my heart aches for them and the situation in a way that is recognized by thousands of people who have been feeling the same way and discussing their feelings all week by way of emotional triage. That is my politically-correct statement, but also, I want my readers to understand that this is my emotional background, even if it isn’t the subject of my writing and even if I sound emotionally cold at times.
Very shortly after learning about the bombing, people in my family and other folks prominent and obscure made the point that bombing a marathon in Boston was a stupid and pointless thing to do. It could serve no one. It was clear almost immediately that the response of the people was to come together in massive support, save most of the lives of the victims, and unify in defiance of violence and fear. The kind of fierce New England neighbor-ness that Ann is always pointing out to me was evident in spades. It was as if Boston stood up as one angry body with a giant finger pointed to the sky to defy the terror and proclaim that no one can force them to fear doing whatever they want to do. No jerk with a garage bomb has the power to make them change the way they live their lives. Today, a week later, I think that most of the people of Boston and many others are stronger, and more unified, as a direct result of the bombing.
Unfortunately, I don't think it will last. Through observation, I have developed the opinion that this country is incredibly vulnerable to terrorist acts such as these. It's not that we are particularly easy to attack in this way, but that we are damaged heavily each time we are attacked. Right now the people of Boston are more tightly knit and strong, and this is a fine demonstration of the goodness of the people, and the strength of their community. However, the governing bodies of these good people are slower to react; we haven't seen the whole response yet, and I'm worried.
Eleven and a half years ago airplanes were flown into the World Trade Center. It was horrifying and destructive, and it will most likely haunt much of our generation throughout our lives. In the aftermath of the attacks, US flags sold out, the red cross had to turn away blood donors, non-profits had to turn away supply and money donations. The entire city and most of the country resolved to emerge stronger and better than they had been. No one could inspire terror in a nation so great: in defiance the country rebelled against the will of destructive agencies. The nation was more unified than any time before or since in my life. The potential of that unity was palpable.
And then, when the slower governing bodies made their response, we spent that potential. We went to war. We enacted the traitorously named patriot act without reading it. We went to war again with little reason or evidence. We renewed and expanded the patriot act; we enacted more laws to restrict our freedoms in the name of safety. We opened and used extra-legal torture/jails all around the world. We invented the TSA, and expanded their powers and budget every year despite any evidence that they have ever stopped anything bad from happening. We continue to erode free-speech and fourth amendment rights under the guise of increased safety. How many times in the last ten years have you heard the unchallengeable argument: "If it will save even one life..." used to justify some new law or regulation?
There are many examples where this phenomenon has reared its head and new restrictive laws have been enacted to prevent something that is already illegal. But I'll stick to 9-11 for now. Two weeks after the attacks, we had culprits. Shortly after that we went to war to bring the culprits to justice and blah, blah, blah (<- anti-war rant here: ask me if you're interested.) So, massive legislative overhauls, restricted freedoms, inconvenient and expensive new travel procedures, reduced privacy, eroded rights, eroded global reputation, two wars, 10 years, 7000 US soldiers, 100,000+ Iraqi and Afghani, and more than a trillion dollars later, we caught and killed Osama bin Laden. And we're not done. The US is still technically in a state of emergency (an absurd literal contradiction), we are still involved in one and a half wars, your rights are not being repaired, people are still held in jails without being charged, the TSA isn't going anywhere, and much of the world still justifiably hates us. We were attacked and we caught the bad guys. Tell me who won. Tell me who is stronger now.
And that is what I worry about with regards to Boston too. The bombing hurt people, and they almost immediately emerged stronger. They caught the suspects (presumed innocent?). There is healing that needs to happen now, but what else will we do? What will we give up to make sure it never happens again? It is good that the people can emerge stronger from an act of terror, but what are we teaching the bad people of the world when we are so willing to harm ourselves in response? So, today, the (still hurting and still healing) people of Boston are stronger and closer; but I don't think we'll know how much the bombers really hurt us until the next Boston marathon.
It took me most of my life to date, but now I think I understand: the only thing we have to fear, is fear itself.
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