Monday, April 03, 2006

Repression of War Experience

Now light the candles; one; two; there's a moth;
What silly beggars they are to blunder in
And scorch their wings with glory, liquid flame --
No, no, not that, - it's bad to think of war,
When thoughts you've gagged all day come back to scare you;
And it's been proved that soldiers don't go mad
Unless they lose control of ugly thoughts
That drive them out to jabber among the trees.


Now light your pipe; look, what a steady hand.
Draw a deep breath; stop thinking; counting fifteen,
And you're as right as rain...
Why won't it rain?...
I wish there'd be a thunder-storm to-night,
With bucketsful of water to sluice the dark.
And make the the roses hang their dripping heads.
Books; what a jolly company they are,
Standing so quiet and patient on their shelves,
Dressed in dim brown, and black, and white, and green,
And every kind of colour. Which will you read?
Come on; O do read something; they're so wise.
I tell you all the wisdome of the world
Is waiting for you on those shelves; and yet
You sit and gnaw your nails, and let your pipe out,
And listen to the silence: on the ceiling
There's one big, dizzy moth that bumps and flutters;
And in the breathless air outside the house
The garden waits for something that delays.
There must be crowds of ghosts among the trees, --
Not people killed in battle, --they're in France, --
But horrible shapes in shrouds --old men who died
Slow, natural deaths, -- old men with ugly souls,
Who wore their bodies out with nasty sins.

You're quiet and peaceful, summering safe at home;
You'd never think there was a bloody war on!...
Oh yes, you would...why you can hear the guns.
Hark! Thud, thud, thud, --quite soft...they never cease --
Those whispering guns --O Christ, I want to go out
And screech at them to stop --I'm going crazy;
I'm going start staring mad because of the funs.

--1918, Siegfried Sassoon

Red--Anonymous (something I found while cleaning)

I've always wanted to be a communist.
I found it a beautiful ideal in
which humankind could finally
live equally, sharing possessions
and knowledge.
Materialistic world we live in
I strive for my utopia
World in which differences are
an asset not a handicap
Judging, judgmental
Even I disciminate by saying I
hate racists.
Ask a Russian if he wants to be a
communist.
Ask a Tibetan how she feels
about communism
Ideal, mystic unrealistic
Human nature a destructive
force bringing greed and selfishness
Power seeking pigs
Waiting for my communism

Silent No More

I realise that this is possibly one of the worst places that I could do this. It's so impersonal. You can't see me, and certainly can't prove that I said any of these things. But I couldn't wait any longer and just keep being quiet. I missed my big opportunity, so this is my second chance to at least say something.

On Friday I had lunch with some of my co-workers, and they ended up talking about abortion for some reason I can no longer remember. And while I could handle them talking about how people needed more information, I was very uncomfortable while they were talking about how traumatic an abortion is (although it was deemed just as traumatic to carry the child).

I am tired of this idea of trauma being deemed universal. It is NOT. I am sure that it is a very hard thing for some people, but it isn't for all. How do I know this? Because I've been through it, and don't regret it. My life wouldn't have been what I wanted if I had made any other decision.

Have whatever opinions you like, but don't encourage the idea that all who have abortions react in the same way.