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Sunday, March 30, 2003
A Volcano Virgin for Peggy.
What's a little human sacrifice among friends if it will make you and the townspeople feel better? Remember those old jungle movies where the terrified villagers would offer up a Volcano Virgin (sit down, Ben) to an angry volcano god so they could live in peace again? Looks like the Jungle Princess of the Upper West Side thinks a little war is just the kind of thing to get the world to see that we're serious, goddarn it, and, hey, we could stock up on a bit more self esteem while we're in the neighborhood:
The second Gulf War will not be quick. And one senses no one will doubt, when it was over, that every medal was earned.
But the long haul is going to mean and demonstrate more than that. A resentful world is about to see that America had to fight for it. They are about to see America could fight for it--that we had and have the stomach for a struggle. Our implacable foes and sometimes doubting friends will see that America's armed forces don't just shock and awe, we stay and fight.
The world will be reminded that America still knows how to suffer. In a county as in an individual, the ability to withstand pain--the ability to suffer--says a great deal about character. It speaks of maturity and courage, among other things. The world knew half a century ago that America will absorb pain to reach progress. It is not all bad that they are seeing it again.
Americans too may be heartened to see that we know how to absorb pain. Deep in the heart of many pro-invasion thinkers has been a question they do not ponder for it could only be answered in time. It was: Can we still take it? It won't be bad for us to see that the answer is yes.
Our armed forces, the professionals, are going to learn that they can do it. They've wondered too. They are also going to learn how to do their jobs better, because they're really going to have to do the job. They are not going to feel when they return that they got all dressed up and the party was canceled. They're going to know they put on 50 pounds of gear and then slogged through a sandstorm to take town after town. And no one is going to wonder if there was grade inflation in the medal giving.
Pretty brave words from the saucy New York divorcee who has the inner strength and stamina to crank out 900-1200 words a week for us to slog through...with, or without, her non-fat, no-foam venti vanilla latte.
But come a clear and sunny June 27th morning, with "the fresh warmth of a full-summer day", when the stones have been piled up in the village square by the young boys, and Mr. Summers brings out the black box.
Although the villagers had forgotten the ritual and lost the original black box, they still remembered to use stones. The pile of stones the boys had made earlier was ready; there were stones on the ground with the blowing scraps of paper that had come out of the box. Mrs. Delacroix selected a stone so large she had to pick it up with both hands and turned to Mrs. Dunbar. "Come on," she said. "Hurry up."
"It isn't fair, it isn't right," Mrs.Hutchinson Noonan screamed, and then they were upon her.
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