After September 11th, I started blogging because it was the only way to leave a record which said, "All these things our government is doing in the name of security-- all these bombs and butterflies-- are not in my name." It makes sense that the tragedy of the Paris attacks bring me back to the blog, inspired by the same questions, the same horror, the familiar terror in witnessing how fear transforms nice Americans into angry, destructive monsters.
So here I am. In the thralls of the terror that brings me back to the blog.
And here's what I know. A loose-held bouquet of scattered impressions.
The Bataclan Attackers
I know that the Bataclan attackers were angry young men who wanted revenge. They might have used heroin prior to the attack. Their had the expression of "zombies."
I know that their fervor reminds me more of nihilism than spiritual belief. Maybe their version of Islam is not a religion so much as a lack of religion-- a lack of spiritual journey. Their rage may be the entire story. Can we settle for such a slender plot line in the world of conspiracy theories and Muslim-bashing?
The Death Sentence of Poet Ashraf Fayadh
I know our allies in the Saudi regime are loathed by everyone except the jet-setters who profit from the business opportunities. I know the Saudi regime does not represent the will of the Saudi people. I know that Palestinian poet and leading member of Saudi Arabia’s nascent contemporary art scene Ashraf Fayadh has been sentenced to death for renouncing Islam.
I know that it is easy and even pleasurable to arouse myself with fears of a terrorist attack. I know that people are more likely to "fall in love" while watching scary or suspense-driven movies.
I know that fear can create a cheap sense of solidarity which encourages us to do and think things we would never consider alone. I know hatred has the same power and potency as fear. I know hatred and fear can wind up cousins.
I know the current xenophobia and bigotry makes me so sick that an apple tastes like copper on my tongue. Therefore, I will seek temporary mental refuge in a lovely place called the Yiddish Emporium. But I'll be back. Because truth is the only weapon against terror.
Sources: Jay Newton-Small; @ErinBurnett; David Smith; @David_Batty; Sebastain Budgen; Verso Books; Anna DuBuis; Ben Farmer; UK Telegraph
