Sides to a story

As a writer, it is my job to come up with interesting plots, characters and twists to keep the audience enthralled. I hope I succeeded with Regrets, but thankfully what comes out of my mind is entirely fictional.

But real life events have been taking place, and not just in Paris. There are people out there that really want to kill everyone that does not agree with them.

And I'm not just talking about the (damn, I can't come up with a proper word) -- killers of the fundamentalist faction that is spreading terror around the world now.

Note that I'm trying to avoid calling people names. It's immature and inciteful and the last thing these guys need is additional incitement.

So let's talk a little about what incites people to do a violent act on another person. It could be something as simple as not decorating a cup in the fashion accustomed by certain other people.

I will not use labels in this blog. Everyone is a person, or a human. Unless you're an animal. Even that could be considered inciteful, but only if you think you're not human. Or perhaps you're superhuman, or have evolved beyond the normal laws that man has created, Perhaps you think the laws don't apply to you.

Don't be (apply random name-calling here). You're human. If you can read this you're human. If you can react with various emotions to this blog, you're human.

Human: By way of Dictionary.com



[hyoo-muh n or, often, yoo‐]

Spell Syllables

Examples
Word Origin
adjective
1.
of, pertaining to, characteristic of, or having the nature of people:
human frailty.
2.
consisting of people:
the human race.
3.
of or relating to the social aspect of people:
human affairs.
4.
sympathetic; humane :
a warmly human understanding.noun
5.
a human being.


From the British part of that:


adjective
1.
of, characterizing, or relating to man and mankind: human nature
2.
consisting of people: the human race, a human chain
3.
having the attributes of man as opposed to animals, divine beings, or machines: human failings

You're human. You're not a god. You're not an animal. You're not perfect. You have feelings.

Let me emphasize this. Everyone has feelings.

As a writer, I pride myself at being able to see all sides to a story, because  there's not such thing as two sides. Even when only two people are around, because no matter how isolated you become in this world, someone somewhere is having an impact on your life. More than one someones.

So, being able to see all sides to a story, I can see being angry over events happening in Paris. I can see wanting to get revenge on those that carried it out and planned it. That part of me wants to wage war until all of the enemy is wiped out.

Then another part of my kicks in and asks: 'Who's the enemy?' It's a simple question, but the answer is far from simple. Yes, kill the enemy, but please don't kill the innocents that the enemy invariably draws around them. Just so they can say 'The Americans (or French, or British or Russians) killed your brother, your sister, your mother  and/or your father and now you should join us because you want revenge too.'

This is what they want. This is how the enemy recruits. And yes, I can see that side too. They want power and glory and they are willing to give their own lives to see it happen. I have written characters like that and in every instance the character dies and all that is left is the memory of how things might have been.

So that part of me that can see all sides now asks 'Why kill at all? Will that bring people back?' I know that's a cliche. That doesn't make it untrue. 

So how do we stop people - humans - who want to kill other humans? 

Do we become so vigilant that we trample on the rights of all humans just to prevent another atrocity?

Do we wage all out war until everyone in that region is dead? Silly, isn't it? But in my mind that is how it might end. 

Do we close our borders and not let any from that country in? What about the ones that are already there? Do we deport them? Do we treat them like pariahs?

It's funny that we have killed so many predators - animals - that we have driven them to the point of extinction. Yet humans prevail. And despite the butchery that happens altogether too often, our population continues to grow beyond our means to feed it. 

But that is yet another side to the story. It's all interrelated. 

How does it end? Do we kill, and blame someone else for making us kill? 

Or do we let go of the hatred, let go of the fear? 

There's an old saying: 'Kill someone with kindness.' Embrace those that show hate to you. Take in those refugees and feed and clothe them so they can see that we don't hold them to blame for the acts of others. Show the joy in our hearts for being human.

More people will die. I will mourn them. I might even be one of them, but should that happen, I would not want my family to avenge me. I would want them to understand that the only way this stops is to teach our young that we are all the same. To teach them that taking a single life hurts us all. Taking multiple lives strikes deep into the soul of every human. 

I write often about souls. Perhaps the ones who want so much destruction have had their souls damaged, Maybe they deserve to die. 

But that won't stop the carnage. The only way to stop it is to start with the current youngest generation. When the older ones have either killed each other or died off in other ways, the younger ones can start to heal the world. 

Now that would be a wonderful time to live in.

Paranoid and Hating It

As is my wont since I started to take the Silverline to and from work, I walked past the Boston Federal Courthouse today. In the past it had been a scene filled with officers of all types and a line of press and other bystanders. Today it was quiet. As I crossed the street to begin traversing the building, a mini-van pulled up to the last space before the street. It was a van covered in circular icons, and as I drew near I noticed it said 'Catering' on it. As I leaned down to look in the passenger window, a slight flow of paranoia creeping over me, and I saw the driver look at me. He was young, under 20 I'd say, was very thin but not very tall, had dark, curly hair and a slightly dark complection.

What made me move faster, in addition to all the above, was that he was just sitting in the van. It he was a legitimate caterer, he should have been jumping out of the van to do what needed to be done. I moved as fast as my poor knees would let me, fearing to be caught in a blast. If I'd had the presence of mind to remember I brought my camera, I might have even taken pictures or video.

I can safely say I was not caught in a blast, nor has any occurred as of this writing. As I moved away from the scene, the paranoia faded, and the temptation to call 911 waned. Then I got to thinking. Was he perhaps waiting for someone? He did seem a bit nervous when he saw me looking at him, Maybe he was picking someone up using compamy property. If I had acted rashly, things would certainly be different for him. The simple fact is I had no facts and therefore no justification in calling the police. Knowing them, in their own paranoia, made worse by the recent killing of someone who had threatened them, they would have moved in and shot him without provocation.

That's all right for them - well, no it isn't, really, but I understand where they're coming from. But for me, paranoia is a recent thing. I've never been at 'ground zero' of a major event, and the trial of the Boston Marathon Bomber had put me on an edge I really didn't like to be on.

But this is where I work, and I won't let the possibility of being blown up, no matter how remote, stop me from getting paid.

But that doesn't mean I like being paranoid. It's a feeling I really want to get rid of. Right now, though, I have to learn to deal with it. Because if I let it rule my life, then the terrorists win, amiright?