These days attacking Iran is the hot topic in the Capitol and the White House. Seymour Hersh in New Yorker stirred the feverish excitement of radical neoconservatives to invade and conquer this wounded and tired enemy. One of the last frontiers of governmental terrorism. An invasion in the name of freedom and democracy? Alas, what clean and beautiful words they were before…
I wrote something about this in August.
Operation Ira[n]i Freedom
Old woman is seated on the bed in the middle of the room, light coming in from the windows surrounding her, looks pale, very pale, long white hair and all in white plain garment, bare footed, hunched , seated in the middle of the bed. All white and pale. Her granddaughter brings me with shaking hands. Grandma takes me to her with shaking hands. She is too white, life is escaping from her. I am afraid, I am six, I am too young to touch her, she is leaving, I can’t. What she sees in me? Hello, I am your greatgreatgrandson, don’t touch me I am six, you see, you flow in me. I will be alive years and years after you and carry memory of your pale hands all around the world.
This photo says it all.
Huygens probe landed on Titan. I am quite amazed by the photos, and also by the descent’s sound track.
She is right by saying that I become bumpy and repulsive on Wednesdays. Mid-week, unbearable, burden of previous seven days and coming seven days molded in my sarcastic remarks. Too bad not everything comes in words, otherwise it could have been a more peaceful world. I spend half an hour explaining why it is courageous and admirable even adorable that she is leaving beautiful landscapes and drenching rainstorms of Seattle for a such an unknown place. Why she is going to be a source of change and she is different.
-I am not flattered, in case you didn’t know, I didn’t get the job in Prague. Meanwhile I appreciate your understanding.
Ithaka is lost 