Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Dear Militant Islamist: . . .

Dear Militant Islamist:

I want to love you, but I can't. I resent you for wanting to determine my belief system and that of everybody around you. I abhor you for wanting to make my wife and daughter cover their faces and submit to whatever you or your religious leader might tell them. I detest you for wanting to kill anybody that doesn’t think like you do. I loathe you for acting upon that desire. But that doesn’t compare to the main reason why I have such negative feelings for you: you have made me change my thinking.

I hate that, rather than seeing a potential friend, I now look suspiciously out of the corner of my eye at the middle-eastern-looking man with the large backpack that rides the train with me. I hate my thoughts of having to put two 9mm hollowpoints in that man’s head as he puts his thumb on the detonator in that backpack. I hate contemplating, while on my leisurely ride home to see my family, what it would be like to get blown in to oblivion in a split second. I hate that I now spend more time honing the warrior than I do nourishing the artist, more time becoming a better shot than becoming a better musician. I hate that I might need to be just as ruthless as you are if I want my family to survive the next 10 years. I hate what I am becoming, all because you hate what I represent more than you love life.



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