Sunday, 15 January 2006
Talking to Terrorists
I'm depressed. I need a job. Waiting to hear from the man to see if I got an acting job is getting a drag. I need to get out there man.
Had to sit through a mediocre play yesterday, that depressed me, having just finished writing a play that's far better and that I'm currently selling. There is some interest but nothing concrete, I need concrete.
Marie bought us some plays to read, I'm reading one right now that is depressing me further, not because it is crap but because it is so full of painful facts. It's called Talking to Terrorists and it is full of reminders of awful things that have been done and are still being done in our names.
Like Uzbekistan, the US/UK propping up of a terrible regime that tortures and commits acts of state violence with elements of ethnic and religious bigotry and all for the war on terror as our governments accepts information based on torture to fulfill its false policies. Utter complicite in another regimes sub-human behaviour.
Or the Israeli army who the US army seem to have stolen a march on by copying their utterly useless policy of destroying the 'enemy' rather than talking to it and in doing so creating a new enemy, stronger, more vengeful and more determined to use violence as a means to an end. And so the cycle continues...Like the final words of the play, verbatim text from a Bethlehem Schoolgirl:
"When I first saw the Twin Towers on the television, I felt sorry. But now I feel happy that they died. It's their turn to suffer. I could see many thousands of them die. I wouldn't feel a thing."
Is it a surprise that the part of Iraq that UK troops are in charge of is more peaceful than US held parts? Of course not, we have a military who understands they true nature of conflict, of how wars are conducted and how they are to won in the long term; rather than 'Shock and Awe' short-term bullshit.
The point is that you have to talk to the terrorists eventually, at some point after all the pointless violent posturing and drawing lines in the sand and dead children, you have to sit at a table and figure it out.
Now I'm angry and depressed.