This Death Thing

8.12.06

Today I read that one of the purported bombers was a young man, who as an 18 year old had sought answers from his pastor about some life questions. Unsatisfied with the responses he posed the same to an Imam and, finding them more to his liking, converted to Islam. The paper didn't report what those queries were but I was more struck by the fact that this kid chose his religion based on whatever information someone gave him that resonated with something within. I would imagine that also, whomever he went to for answers must have related to him in a way that made him feel valued, his questions important, his being recognized. Perhaps, had he had access to a Quaker, or a Budhhist or a Jehovah's Witness, he might have gotten different answers, or maybe even the same ones, but chosen his belief system based on whatever good tea he was offered, or warm shoulder proffered, more than the actual words involved. I don't' know, wasn't there but these turning points in people's lives are fascinating.

So here we have some young men who have become convinced that the right thing to do is blow up fellow human beings. How long did it take to sway their malleable minds? How different are they, really, from any young man conscripted into an army, a gang, a crusade? We all have the potential to kill, yet most of us don't either from conviction or lack of opportunity/need. When does one cross that divide between right and wrong? A new friend of Noah's brought over for a play date a rated M for mature video game, that I had prohibited in the house for hits gratuitous violence. His friend is 9 and I wonder why his parents think it's okay for their son to ape young men chasing cars and killing people who get in their way? Why do I allow Noah to play with those little green plastic soldiers? Is there any difference? Now, that I think of it, yes. Those little green soldiers don't' bleed in technicolor and groan in stereo when shot. A child would have no image of that until exposed so would have to imagine the effects of his play battles. These games surround you with special effects that take you into their world. Can growing up with these be much different from growing up in a family where hate is fomented, stereotypes fostered and abuse (emotional or otherwise) allow? This is pushing the envelope, I know, but how can we as parents say it's wrong to kill, it's wrong to put down women, it's wrong to destroy property, but let our kids virtually do so for hours on end every day.

Is this actually our own way of embracing death, of acknowledging that life is precious by remmbering how easy it is to take it away with a bullet well aimed, a bomb well placed, a poison seamlessly delivered? I recently met a woman, cheerful and sunny in disposition, who revealed that 10 years ago she lost her only son and husband in a car crash. She has been re-building her life but still mourns this momentous loss. I know a few women have been sucked into this Jihad, but it is mostly men who give up their lives for those vestal virgins, or their country, or their cause. Could it be that our brains are so well designed with men having those smaller corpus collosums, the pathway between right and left brains, reason and emotion, so that they can go out and do the nasty dirty work of the species while we women folk clean up the mess or the mastodon carcasses?

If I start to think about all these lives wasted and the prospect of my own children being asked to give up theirs for some great cause, I want to go someplace else with a bottle of wine and sit in a lavender field. But then, I remember that most countries conscript their youth for a period of time and think why should my children be exempt from a nation's defense needs? They shouldn't. But then, no one should have to fight if they do not want to.

Whoever gave answers to that young man who allegedly planned on taking people's lives was both a powerful figure and a conduit for a swath of hate sweeping around the world in search of open minds. Like the serpentine boa around my Frida Kahlo-esque skeletal muneca used on the Day of the Dead, this desire to end life seems all to easy to wear when one's own life feels dispensable. How can we help people believe there is more to gain in slaying that snake than in feeding it daily and allowing it to insinuate itself into the hearts and minds of so many?