We Are Small, Yet Strong

I was reading about the fellow who won the $200 million in the big Lotto jackpot last week, and it occurred to me that about 10,000 other people would have to win that same amount before they could pay for what's been spent on the Iraq War.

This is one big reason (there are many others) why this blog is sponsoring UFPJ's nationwide protest march this coming weekend. If you live in or near New York and plan to attend, post a comment if you'd like to meet someplace in the staging area between 35th and 39th Streets in Manhattan.

I'm going because I have a child who will grow up into the manufactured, profit-driven terror of our Halliburton era. I'm also going because there are tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands of people I will never know whose lives will be taken or ruined amid the perpetuation and escalation of this vortex of devastation fueled by the limitless avarice of a few old white demons and their advertising machinery.

We are small, yet strong. The fear that once froze us now has no room to cast its icy shroud, for the worst that can happen has already begun. The government of a nation conceived in liberty and equality has been overtaken by corporate tyrants and paranoid despots; the threat of a nuclear holocaust is intensifying amid the Cradle of Civilization; the Earth itself is under attack and responding in the only way it can, while Science—the god of the 20th century—freezes in horror at what it has made.

So there is no room for fear anymore. Neither is there room for the hero. The cult of heroism has contributed to the morass of death, corruption, and disorder that we now have. Activism, properly understood, is not about heroism; it is about working within one's natural abilities and influence, in the confidence that one's energy will attract its complement. Join us Sunday in New York or Washington or wherever you can get to, and you'll see what it's all about. Let this anniversary of the Iraq War be the last.