how many have been killed since the war on terror began? don't we deserve to know?
 

 it's nothing to do with the price of gas or the elections, but just for the sake of curiosity if not truth, how many have died?
 

 this is where we live. this is our home. it doesn't belong to us. our destiny is a commodity.
 

 violence is mundane, until it hits you, this is personal.
 

where a kid just barely old enough to go to war can buy an assault rifle on an angry whim and start his own killing, in a rich suburb or a ghetto, 
where the most advanced technology of death rules the planet, the planet 
where death is profit,
 of greater value than life.



*sarah says the blog is more hopeful, more about love, of late.
maybe yes. i can see that. but love has always been there, if obscured.
and hope comes along with blasting at the bullies, at the war criminals, at the brutality of the homeland. love comes with dark matter.
i have to process that, as ineptly as i may, to find the truth or beauty or joy or love. the culture says you kill the other for love of freedom. that freedom lies. that freedom is death.
yet i say to sarah i am profoundly lucky 
to live in a country where i can swim with my dog, and
blast at the murderers with words.  
it's close to heaven, really.    

*mary margaret remarks on something i said that was sourced somewhere forgotten, about the truth of the other, and love creating space to find things. perhaps you will know whence it came. i try to attribute, but at times things get absorbed into the body so quick you think they're your own. 
and she pondered and asked about the truth of the other and i said it gets buried, the truth of who we are even before we become, the same burial of who the culture is, what the culture does, the brutal toll the world absorbs. we absorb too. in our pursuit of freedom.
the cult of individuality, the annihilation of the other.
the act of killing,  i keep returning to. the killers even want to reveal the truth, even obomba wants to reveal the truth, they want to even
though the truth is murder.

if we get to that truth, life as it could be is possible.