Those volcanos erupting in Arfica's Congo have wrought havoc it's capital city, Goma. Most of the half million residents had to flee from the torrent of lava flowing down it's streets. And then that fuel station where looters were taking gasoline in plastic containers exploded to kill five dozen more. Yet U.N. aid agencies can't get them to stay camped in the tent cities provided because they think it's safe enough to go home where 40% of their city was destroyed. The whole calamity comes right when things in Afghanistan seem to be going downhill too. That interum governor had said it would take ten billion dollars to bebuild his country, and the World Bank says fifteen, but the meeting of 60 nations in Tokyo to raise funds only has only four and a half billion in sight so far. Yet that's amazing to this observer, since the Afghan war lords are starting up their same old games between each other. We've already spent so much on the war that I doubt we'll have much heart for trying to rebuild. There's been so much guilt laid on us for walking away after the Russians pulled out a decade ago. But some places don't seem to me worth the battle of staying; though we've promised that we will and our marines have now turned that base they build down by Kandahar over to U.S. army forces. The EU has pledged nearly a billion and even India a hundred million, with Japan at 300 million which is equal to our offer. Now a new clash with that warlord named Kahn, who is backed by Iran, seems to be in the making west of there. Afghans appear to be tribal instead of having a national loyalty, in spite of that meeting in Germany that the UN sponsored for setting up a government. And we hear that most of the Talibans captured have been turned loose again. So who'se going to fork over the other ten billion still needed for rebuilding? That much could have bailed out Enron right here couldn't it? If money can restore a long devastated land, why hasn't the 25 million reward offered for ObL brought about his capture by now?
Down at "Gitmo," where the al-Quidas are being detained. the count will soon be up to 200 terrorists. Of course it will go a lot higher than that, in spite of protests made by some Cuban citizens who fear having them on the same island. Yet it's amazing how polite Fidel Castro has been to us since locating them there. (Maybe he has prisons that are far worse than the 8 X 8 wire cages where these are being kept.) The International Red Cross is checking to see that we're providing them humane treatment, but I've not yet heard their evaluation, though our military welcome them and some who will stay permanently; one spokes person in Britian, our strongest ally, has voiced her group's criticism, while all the call-ins on radio and TV I've heard around here feel we are being too easy on them. I doubt that they are certainly winning good will for Allah with all their prayers on the mats we've provided them. And that falling face forward toward Mecca seems far too much of a public display of piety to us westerners. Jesus said "Go into your closet and pray to the heavenly Father in secret." Christians do that more than five times a day. In fact, it becomes a dialogue with deity for those who are filled with the Spirit. And the fall on their face before the Lord in private prayer, as Jesus did in the garden on that Thursday night of His agony about going to the cross.
Our national holiday for MLK Jr. has made me think again about that non-violent movement he led for civil rights. Since he, a Christian, had learned the tactics from a Hindu, in Gandhi's "passive resistance" movement by India's citizens against British rule back in the late forties, I thus assumed that both had drawn it from the teaching of Jesus Christ: "resist not evil, turn the other cheek, love thine enemy." We Methodists had a missionary back then named Dr. E. Stanley Jones, who greatly admired the Mahatma. And Jones' writing caused me to think that way. But reading now about Gandhi's own religion has shown me "ahimsa" or harmlessness as the basic principal. It compares to what Jesus taught but is derived from Hindu belief in reincarnation, which sees a recycled soul dwellng in every living creature. Thus ahimsa (non-injury) is a notion of Hinduism and especially so to Jainism, which split off several centuries BC; and it's also held in Buddhism, another even earlier split from Hinduism. Of course Hinduism is India's main religion and "hindu" is just another word for Indian. But India's nearly billion people will now no longer play the role of a peaceful giant on the world scene. With this new shooting to death of five Indian police, again by Jehad fanatics from Kashmir, the giant must be tempted to nuke those Muslims who had already hit their Delhi parliment just a month ago murdering fifteen of their legislators. Pakistan's president Musharif has tried to crack down on terrorists, but has failed the same way Arafat has on his Palestinians. Fanatic radicals can still disrupt all peace efforts, just as James Earl Ray shot Dr.King to death in Memphis TN back in 1968.
Here's a joke reader David Freeman sent me. You have to read it aloud to hear the punch in that next to last line: *No Chocolate* A man goes into an ice cream parlor and says, "I'd like two scoops of chocolate ice cream, please." The girl behind the counter says, "I'm very sorry, sir, but our delivery truck broke down this morning. We're out of chocolate." "In that case," the man says, "I'll have two scoops of chocolate ice cream." "You don't understand, sir," the girl says. "We have no chocolate." "Then just give me some chocolate," he says. Getting angrier by the second, the girl says, "Sir, will you spell 'van,' as in 'vanilla?'" The man says, "V-A-N." "Now spell 'straw,' as in 'strawberry.'" "OK. S-T-R-A-W." "Now," the girl says, "spell 'stink,' as in chocolate." The man hesitates, then says, "There is no stink in chocolate." "That's what I've been trying to tell you!" she screams. Maybe the title should have been "No Comprehendo," which is such a major problem in our close relationships. My wife feels disgusted with me sometimes for not getting what she means just because of words she uses. Women know that meaning is deeper than what comes from the mouth, so we males should be able to understand it. But we tend to be literal and just take their words for what they've said. Of course that's far too simple. And our words to them don't say as much as tone of voice, body language, timing, deeds etc. which make communication about as complex as anything we do. But just to a waitress, the words are everything it would seem.
Over a month ago I had the final committal at the Whitebead cemetery for a long time friend. Since he was a veteran, the family wanted taps sounded at the close. So I made copies of the following story and gave it to the widow and relatives of Dick Smith: Saved e-mail message From: varner@telepath.com (Barbara) Date: Sat, Jun 3, 2000, 9:28am (CST+1) Subject: Taps TAPS (or American TAliban?) It all began in 1862 during the Civil War, when Union Army Captain Robert Ellicombe was with his men near Harris's Landing in Virginia. The Confederate Army was on the other side of the narrow strip of land. During the night, Captain Ellicombe heard the moan of a soldier who lay mortally wounded on the field. Not knowing if it was a Union or Confederate soldier, the captain decided to risk his life and bring the stricken man back for medical attention. Crawling on his stomach through the gunfire, the captain reached the stricken soldier and began pulling him toward his encampment. When the captain finally reached his own lines, he discovered it was actually a Confederate soldier, but the soldier was dead. The captain lit a lantern. Suddenly, he caught his breath and went numb with shock. In the dim light, he saw the face of the soldier. It was his son. The boy had been studying music in the South when the war broke out. Without telling his father, he enlisted in the Confederate Army. The following morning, heartbroken, the father asked permission of his superiors to give his son a full military burial despite his enemy status. His request was partially granted. The captain had asked if he could have a group of Army band members play a funeral dirge for the son at the funeral. That request was turned down since the soldier was a Confederate. Out of respect for the father, they did say they could give him only one musician. The captain chose a bugler. He asked the bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of his dead son's uniform. This wish was granted. This music was the haunting melody we now know as "Taps" that is used at all military funerals. ............................................ This sad story brings to mind the upcoming trial of John Walker Lindh who turned against his own country. History seems to be sounding taps for the world as I listen to current events. And the well known tune was in the pocket of that captain's own son who had become a rebel. For those who are all the saved, that final line still applies: "All is well, safely rest. GOD is neigh." For traitors to the Truth, all is certainly not well but hell.