Font Rants on Many Subjects

Since we are in the neighborhood why don't we just drop in the 82nd airborne.

First the assassination or Hariri, now the bombings and brazen attempt to re-ignite the Lebanese civil war. We all know Syria is funding the insurgency in Iraq as BashirAssad tries to make himself into the latest strong man. Bashir better hope Bush's approval ratings go back up soon; before we launch a second preemptive war.

Almost 4 years on from 9-11 my blood is still up, my patience is still low. I fear my soul is mortally wounded and that only the blood of our enemies will fill the emptiness that remains. This Saturday was once a day darker than 9-11-01. This was the day God was dead; and the world was alone. In the resurrection I see the hope that my heart will be restored. That these deep wounds from terror and war will heal and our community will be restored. Like the grape vine our shriveled cold hearts will come to luscious life once more.

Give me Barabas

I envision Barabas as this AD 30 Jessie James style outlaw riding through the holy land stealing from those rich smug romans. Or maybe he's like George Clooney in Ocean's 11, a cool theif breaking some palestinian casino and escaping into the darkness; only to be rounded up and brought over for trial. He is in my mind sense a romantic villian; the kind we love to see on the big screen. I have no idea if it is correct or not; but perhaps this is why a couple of millenia ago the populace chose him over the Jesus the troublemaker who stirred things up in the temple and made us feel all uncomfortable about ourselves. They picked the man of action; daring do; rather than the one who asked us to look inside ourselves, and confront our unquiet souls. Maybe I'm reimagining the story and laying on my own experiences rather than what is set out in the gospels.

Today, looking in my own heart I know what I want in these troubled times. I don't want to ask uncomforatble questions. I want action and romance; bread and circus. I want Barabas. Like Peter on this day; I say, "I do not know the man you are talking about."

More on Terry Shivo

I have a new image in my head. This woman has been reduced to a doll by her parents and loved ones. Reading William Satelan's article in Slate today it is clear to me that this is what has happened. It is in a way the ultimate idolitry. God's form sustained through artificial means, kept in limbo. God's form replaced by thing. Woman reduced to object.

Re: Saint Shivo....

Why are we so captivated by this case? We are heading into a new age. Death as we now know it may pass away from human experience in the next 20-30 years. Though it may not be the immortality you planned for. How much of your brain and body must pass on before we declare you at your end. For many people a living will, can set forth the conditions by which they should be sustained; and by which they should be terminated. What about those who don't have the living will; or if there is a dispute? Having a judge and jury decide your fate when you haven't committed a crime; seems wrong. Allowing the family to decide may seem less cruel; but what about when the family doesn't agree; such as in the Shivo case. Still having congress step in at the last minute and decide one woman's life or death seems equally wrong.
Things are only more complicated from this point on. When we can regrow your brain, and retrain you; but you won't remember who you were; are you still you? To wake up one day as Mr. So and So; without memories of your parents; your childhood; your wife or husband or children, a new person born at 30 or 50? Is that a life you'd want? Are you still married? Can you still be the parent? Of course it may not be the life you want today as you; but the future you could be perfectly content. What is societies obligation to those people who persist on in a vegetative state? How much of the scarce resources of the world are we obligated to provide you with? I don't want to sound cold hearted; but the nurses sustaining Terry Shivo; could also be serving a homeless person without health insurance whose contracted TB and needs a weekly followup visit to make sure they take their meds; or doing many hundreds of other things that serve broader public health interests.
Finally what happens if fetal stem cell research finds the way to repair Mrs Shivos brain; and she awakens. Will she still be still be the saint of the unborn and persistently vegetating that the right has made her into?