My father comes from an Amish background. My mother comes from a Mennonite background. Both groups are conscientuous objectors and pacifists. Ironically, I became a United States Marine and still manage to get along with both my mom and my dad. Now that I’m in the Georgia Army National Guard and just days away from being active Army and on my way to Iraq, my parents’ main concern is that my soul is prepared for the next stage of existence. It is, although I don’t pretend to have the same expectations for my next life as my parents have. It’s much more nebulous for me than it is for them.
In any case, I love the irony that life so richly illustrates. Joan Baez has been an anti-war protestor for decades. Most recently, she’s jumped on the Cindy Sheehan train to nowhere. I like to ponder on what her life would have been had she been born an Iraqi. Imagine Joan al-Zarqawi, if you would, protesting under the regime of Saddam. Oops. Rather than being able to sing about the evils of war, I am guessing that the Iraqi folk singer name Joan al-Zarqawi would have been expeditiously buried in a shallow grave without much of a ceremony. Perhaps the grave diggers would have smoked a cigarette after pushing the earth over her head and reflected a moment on their own fragile mortality, but that would have been about it. She wouldn’t have had the opportunity to protest through music for more than about five minutes.
Remember, all you idealist lovers of peace – you’re only alive and thriving because others are willing to make war despite your constant insouciance and trumped up self-righteous indignation. If it weren’t for us hawks, all you doves would have been eaten by the wolves a long time ago.