insurgency reports

i went further into the wikipedia article covering Blackwater today and discovered, via a few links, al Basrah's Iraqi Insurgency Reports page.

it's interesting to read the difference in the incidents reported in recent days on the site, as opposed to those posted in 2006.

in 2006, most of their proud targets seem to be US and allied soldiers and marines.
in 2008, the tone changes and the targets seem to be primarily civilians.

insurgency is NOT illegal according to international law. in fact i completely understand the sentiments of the insurgents who want to fight back for control over their own fates. i don't believe we have a right to impose a government that's not wanted.
---
(i don't know the full situation in Iraq, so i won't start a tangent there, but i know that Somalis have been upset since December 06 when the US backed an Ethiopian invasion to install a secular government in Mogadishu, deposing the Islamic Courts Union after only six months of their stable rule in southern Somalia--the first stable government in 15 years! frankly, people are pissed, and things have gotten worse since they lost their own form of non-secular government. and maybe there's a similar thought among the many politically-minded Iraqi citizens, wishing they had their autonomy back.)
---
as i was saying, i understand the rise and reasons of the insurgency. it is perfectly legal, again, according to international law, if not local or state law...

HOWEVER: the LEGALITY of an "insurgency" drastically changes when CIVILIANS become TARGETS. and THAT is when it MUST be called what it is: illegal, criminal, terroristic crimes against humanity.

as i've said before, and i say often: i support the insurgents, just as much as i support the troops. i hate the war, and i hate the indiscriminate violence of both sides, though it's more-so being perpetrated by the insurgents.

these reports on al Basrah's website are chilling to read. it is strange to read reports of death or murder, at any rate, but when written so coldly, and nearly proudly, it is just sickening.

i don't know what is to be done in Iraq, or in Afghanistan (especially since i hear far less from the general media about the latter), but i know that the goals of both sides of the blood bath in Iraq (at least) have lost sight of their original goals and loyalties and LIMITS.

i pray for peace, and i pray for justice, and unless i am physically there, i don't know what else to do.

PAX.

Darfuri Mercenaries?

as you know if you've read anything on here from last week, i've been coming to terms with a more active (rather than passive/pacifist) idea of justice.

i've been reading authors--trusted men--who wrote of ending violence and oppression with violence.

i've been struggling immensely in the past few years with this and, seeing now that either ideal fails me, i'm falling in line with "christian realism", a concept attributed to a christian ex-pacifist named Reinhold Niebhur.

he reasoned that this is a fallen world, where ideals such as ever-enforced, strict pacifism is no longer a realistic option.

violence should only ever be the last resort, when sanctions and politics and other forms of diplomacy and peaceful campaigns no longer work.

in Darfur, after about 5 YEARS, no such thing as peaceful attempts at change are working anymore.
Blackwater, yes Blackwater, has agreed to step in and train 1000 of the 9000 African Union Peacekeepers already in-country to be a mobile urgent-response force to combat Janjaweed and other factions preying on civilians in the region.

frankly, i never wanted the obstinate President Omar al-Bashir to ever let it get this far, but seeing as how he's not likely to turn himself in to the International Criminal Court and thus stem the onslaught in western Sudan, i am thankful that more immediate action will be taken to protect the civilians of Darfur who've already endured so much loss of life and livelihood.

i know there is much controversy surrounding the exact inner-workings of Blackwater. it's almost intimidating to think of how "organized" they are, according to Marshall Adame's comment.

but to be even more frank, this is likely the lesser of two evils, and i support upgraded protection of civilians whole-heartedly.

one hundred wonderful things that will never work out

someday soon i'll just do it
just bite the bullet
take the verdict
to hear the truth that's been so pensive

i'll walk into your house
sit down across from you
fold my hands in front of me
and look at you in perfect seriousness
and i'll ask you out
and you'll say 'no'
and i'll ask you why
and you'll say so...

you'll give me reasons
things i can change
and others i cannot
i'll feel like crap
but i won't make you feel the same

i'll untangle my fingers from each other
and shakily shake your hand
i'll say 'thank you', rise from my chair
take my leave, and step out for some air.

standing on your porch
i'll give you exactly
one hundred nineteen seconds
without me

i'll wish that i smoked
and then i'll wish i had something to smoke
like a newport or a marlboro
they say i look like a camel light guy

but as i stand there alone
aggravation and a red face
i'll come slowly around to contentment
i'll think of you inside
you're one of my best friends, you know

i'll take a puff of the tobacco-less air
and make a list of one hundred wonderful things
that will never work out

and at the top of the list will be you and i
and at the bottom will be carving up Mars into apple pie

and realizing solemnly that it ain't that bad
i'll turn from my reverie and reach for the door

put out the cigarette never really in my hand
take a drag of the air and of God and of peace in the land

and when i come back in
you'll probably be laying down with the TV still on
maybe you've turned the volume back up

i'll say hey and drop my keys and wallet by the door
grab some cookies and fill my cup
and sink into my seat

we'll watch Mind Of Mencia like nothing had passed
we're back to normal again, sister
laughing with a really funny guy named Carlos
and i like it this way

i know that what i write here
i'll never ever say some day

it just helps me to write it
to picture it this way

knowing nothing could ever go wrong
as long as this is how it stays

in fact you'll probably never hear any word
or mention of this from me
i'll fail to ever tell you myself
how much i really do care about you
i know it won't work
but there's other things that don't either
apple pie in the sky among them

and i know that life rolls that way
i can roll with that too
thanks for your patience
i can really assure you
that these feelings are gone
by the end of a South Park or two

thanks for who you are
thanks for your coolness
and for not letting me slip away
no matter how many other people you bring into your life

in fact that's all i believe i ever worried for.
peace be with you, sister
and thanks for keeping me close by.



[photo from hamada's photostream on flickr.com]

what if i stumble, what if i fall?

as Rob Bell has pointed out in one of his sermon's i've watched, everything is spiritual. there is to be no separation between our spirits and our bodies.

if that be the case then why do i struggle to stand so often?

i have many close friends whom i look to for guidance in life, people i imagine to be more strongly in touch with the Father. i look to them when i am weak in my walk. i look to them when i don't feel weak even (which may be when i am truly weakest, at times) and i see their example to be almost unattainable.

as many have struggled with over the years, i wonder if i am no longer simply IN the world, and if i've not become, somewhere along my self-infatuated path, OF the world.

in my efforts to be relevant i've only weakened the message and power of the Gospel.

each time i think i'm starting to get back on track i see that a friend is so much MORE excited about God than i am, and that they broadcast it more publicly than i. and i crumple, for i do not wish to be like them. i do not want to be known simply for shouting on and on of how much i'm in love with Jesus. i don't want to look to people like Jesus is all that i think about, though he most often is EXACTLY what i wish i could be channeled into 100% of the time. i just don't want to come across as though i'm saying i am "holier than thou". which is perhaps what i feel like when i look at others so seemingly in love with Jesus and at peace for it.

and this is the part in the story where i realize it is incredibly likely i am frankly OF the world.

and i don't know how to regain my stance of being in, and not of...

i see now that i am avoiding exactly what i want because i hate the idea of being titled and labeled and named as "one of them". it is not fear of association, as much as it is fear of being stuck, dependent under one title, one label alone.
and yet as much as i know my only real claim to any identity comes through Christ's claim on me, as a human trying to make an impact, and avoid stereotypes, i try to outrun his grace, love, and possession of my heart that i absolutely want him alone to have.

i am a stupid mule who is ignoring the call of the only farmer who will give me rest from the cold, tired world, just because i don't want to be seen as the one who wimped out and couldn't make it on his own. even though i know it is the best possible thing in this world for me, and maybe there's not even enough people watching me to see me "wimp out."

a strange place indeed, Watson.

"breathing through fear"

two days ago i walked outside during my break in the middle of my math class in order to step into the warm, breezy, dark afternoon sphere that captivated my attention in every waking moment that day until i stood in it.

i had been reading a moving, strange poem written in 1968 by a man named Juan Gelman of Argentina, entitled "Conversations."

centered around the author's feelings in relation to the recent loss in the hero named Ernesto 'Che' Guevara, the words stirred in me a desire to write verse.

and after my walk, barefoot through the mud around a new building site on campus, i sat down in the classroom in the moments before we reinitiated the lecture and put pen to the paper, finding within me, these words:

"Breathing Through Fear"
[Archer. 22 July 2008]

it's funny to me the heads that turn
the eyes that burn into me, my jacket,
my beloved Esther alive in earth tones,
ensconced in warm dirt and clay.

i walk unshod
the sole figure
an embraced soul
the bleedings soles
through the mud
and burning sand
spirit in hand
the wind dies
to just a whisper
i tread through treads
of yellow beasts far bigger than i
holding my own
breathing through fear
thick in the air
He in my ear
He, the wind, and my warm feet
what else could i need?



.PAX.
-Archer

a journey renewed... again.

if anyone reading this has known me well for over a year you'll definitely recognize these sentiments, especially if i knew you at the end of my spring semester at Lakeland. and there may be a few of you who recognize these exact thoughts if i spoke with you about this in Africa.

i wrote this a week ago in an attempt to understand myself and get some things out on paper. it was unfinished, but maybe i'll like it better this way.

--

my mind is racing. the Jesus of Peace. the God of Justice--would they think this right?
a monster taking on the bigger monster.
theoretically, in being armed, i can kill.
i can take life. not yet, for i am thus far unarmed,
but in the future. three, four, maybe five years, and i'll have the capacity.
but can i pull the trigger?
what hat will i wear?
will i be undercover?
will i be a badge?
or don a suit?
what about combat boots, camo, and a bandana?
will i go guerilla to "seek justice"?
will i be seen as a terrorist, murderer, snake?

or will i even ever really take a life?
in defending the poor and oppressed, will the Prince of Peace fade to the background?
will his call be lost in gunfire?
will i ignore his will?

if no one is to perish, perhaps i can help, and simply aim low-- just high and hard enough to bring them down so they cannot rise again.

can i shatter your bones in your legs and kick your face into the mud and know that you'll walk away from your crime?

--

tell me what you all think, please. every time i think this way i find something that swings me back to the other extreme end of the pendulum and i loathe any hint of violence.

and then again i see violence succeed in releasing captives of cruelty.
and then i remember there's no such thing as redemptive violence.
and then i think to myself, "is rescuing violence the same as redemptive violence?"

war is not the answer. invasion is wrong. occupation is wrong. but what about insurrection? what about violent uprising within a country in order to gain liberation?

i am stuck. i could go for a coffee date or a phone call with anyone interested in talking about this stuff.

peace.
amani.
veritas.

Cambodia-Phnom Penh-Tuol Sleng

three times now since waking up today, Cambodia's come to mind.

punjabican and i are coming to a place where our futures after college are nearing rapidly and we need to get a strong jump on exactly what will be involved in the process of metamorphosis between college and 'the real world'. though i understand the sentiment and reality of college being its own safe little world, i've also come to find that there is a great deal that is accessible in my life at this point.

i think that up until this point i've blinded myself to the options due to my location in nearly rural Indiana... a place i'm still hardly fond of, all things considered.

but now i'm starting to realize i really need to break out of this self-inflicted coma and strike out into the world bravely and recklessly. i've held back for fear of dead-ending (but worse dead-end can you come to than an intentional stand-still?) and for fear of not knowing enough and not being able to do anything. ignorance was never really bliss for me, because i've always wanted to learn that which i do not already know. and now that i'm learning more and more i only find my past and present ignorance to be an aggravation i wish to have dealt without.

i wish people here in the western world knew more about people beyond their borders, our borders... i wish people here cared about the Khmer Rouge's devastating affects, and knew what language is spoken in countries in the Horn of Africa, and knew how many years people have been held captive by FARC in Colombia, and understood what overpopulation can do to a country that is becoming the economic forefront with no moral accountability from the international community.

i wish a lot of things. i wish people didn't want to wage war on other people they don't understand. i wish they would change their minds.

so i pray for them, i pray for the future that people who learn and know and realise will be able to affect in some way. i pray that i can be effective as well in causing change.

i wish americans and the rest of us ruling the western world (and everyone underneath us) could learn to "...live simply so that others may simply live."

three times now since waking up today, Cambodia's come to mind. i'm not sure where to start, i'm relatively certain that people simply won't care about an aging museum documenting lost lives and forgotten atrocities, despite the fact that it's invaluable history is crumbling and yellowing and fading and walking precariously near the edge of oblivion and the unknown.

i don't think you will care to look anything up that i mentioned in here, after reading this. but i hope you will.

punjabican and i are aspiring to go to Tuol Sleng, a museum in Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, that's taken a stand in the former prison building, known as S-21, where all the people whose faces and stories adorn the walls were executed en masse simply because the Khmer Rouge wanted to revitalize a nation 30 years ago...
we dream of being able to go to this museum and spend several months photographing and scanning everything into an electronic vault where it should hopefully never be forgotten. we're also hoping for grant money to stabilize the museum itself and all its displays of lives lost. though the specifics are not yet managed, this is our hope, and maybe God will see fit to send us to a forgotten place to help people everywhere else remember them.

please pray for us, pray for an end to ignorance around the world and in your own homes and schools.

Asanteni sana, watu wangu!

Peace be with you.