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Jews, Mel Gibson, War. Rehabilitating Hatred ©

“Peace is harder to make than war.” - Stanley Weintraub Those that know me well might ask why would I write an exposé discussing Mel Gibson. I am not a fan of Hollywood or its gossip. I do not go to the movie theatres. I rarely recall the names of actors. Show business personalities are of little interest to me. Their art does not mesmerize my mind. Most of it, I feel, is meaningless. As for Mel, I was unwilling to attend a showing of the “Passion of Christ,” even though a friend offered to pay for my ticket. As much as I believe it is important to know what those that differ from me, think, say, do and feel, the prospect of an anti-Semitic message turned my stomach.

Though this treatise will invoke the name of Mel Gibson, it is not about Mr. Gibson; it is about hatred and whether or not we can rehabilitate the hearts and minds of those that hate.

Isolation. Insulation. The Go-Go Garage Society and Its Islands ©

Days ago I was scanning My Left Wing and saw a diary that drew me in, “I Look at All the Lonely People.” The author, Eugene, stated “I've never been one to have many close friends . . . I am very, very choosy with who I care to spend my time with, who I open up to.” I thought, “Me too!” I have been very selective all of my life and it has served me well. Eugene’s words peeked my curiosity; thus, I continued.

As his article expanded, I discovered that he was discussing a recently released study, “Social Isolation in America: Changes in Core Discussion Networks over Two Decades.” This report revealed people in America no longer have the close ties they once did. A quarter of the population has no one they confide in. Most persons are fortunate to have one close friend, perhaps two. Intimacies within families are not what they once were, or at least they are not as they were once believed to be. People in America feel alone and isolated. Interesting; now, I am among the “norm” and yet, simultaneously, still far from it.

World Refugee Day. What Does This Mean To U.S.? ©

Yesterday morning I awoke to news that I wish I had known earlier. “Today, June 20, 2006, is World Refugee Day.” I found my own lack of awareness for the date troubling. I pondered further; I wondered of our collective consciousness.

Currently, there are fifteen to twenty million refugees. There may be more. There are millions of persons without a home, a community, a family, or any real belongings. These individuals have experienced violence that few of us in the can imagine. We sit in our safe havens, and occasionally, we watch the misery on television. We read of their lives, and the plight these people suffer. At times, some American citizens acknowledge that the refugees have lost their homes and their health. Their existence has been threatened. We know something; yet, we understand little. Our lives in the U.S. are so separate from those that were banished from their homeland. It is beyond sad.

As I reflect on the homeless in distant lands, I remember, there are those here in the United States that are also without permanent shelter.

Press Secretary Tony Snow Cried. He and I Touched Humanity. ©

This passage is not political in nature. It is about people. When Press Secretary Snow thought of how fragile his own life was, he cried. When a homeless man helped me to recall how lovely life can be when we care, he touched my heart. Tears flowed down my face.
This story is about Tony Snow, a homeless man, humanity, and me. I will begin with Press Secretary Snow. My focus will not be on the unforgivable term, though I too struggle with its usage. Instead, I will discuss what for me, was a more meaningful lesson.

In this day and age of snarky, once known as snide, rude, and crude, it was a delight to witness genuine emotion.