I started this post back on July 10, 2009. I have no idea now where I was going with it. I remember it seemed very profound at the time, but I can't even finish the last sentence.
I was eight years old when the first Star Wars movie came out. It was a very big deal for me and my family to go, and I remember everyone, especially my brother, was very excited to see the film. Everyone, that is, except me. I didn't like the word "war" in the title, that indicated to me that it would be two hours of glamorizing violence, which I was then and still am very much against. (Not withstanding my own personal temper tantrums, which I'm happy to say have grown almost non existent over the last several years.)
In any case, I have always hated anything resembling war, and have refused to understand anything about "why" we need to go to war at a particular moment. To me it's always seemed like a bunch of kids fighting in their little sandbox, except they get to grab a bunch of unsuspecting other kids to actually go and do the real fighting and risk their lives. At the end of the day, war is just a plain waste: a waste of lives, a waste of resources, a waste of energy. I realize that all the geopolitical layers are more complex than a playground fight, and that international relationships are more complex than those we have with our family and friends, but I think something can be gained from a bit of comparison.
We all get angry, and most of us have been angry enough to hit someone or throw something. Whether we act on that desire is another question. And, whether we act on that desire determines how