Preplanned Fire

I don'know who this woman is.

I know that she lives somewhere in Tehran. I know that she is young, and attractive, that she voted against the incumbent in Iran's national election last week and is now exercised that her vote, and those of the other Iranians who think like her, does not appear to have been counted.

I know that she is Muslim, or, at least, sensible enough to concede to the public mores of her Muslim state by covering her hair (though she seems to be a trifle rebellious, in the minor way that attractive young people often are by letting her headcover slip back to show some fiendishly arousing hair and a stylish little green hairband).

There's a lot about her that I don't know but that I hope. I hope she is smart, funny, a good companion, loving and loved by those who know her. I hope she is kind, and brave, and a decent human being.

And I know this: I know that there are people, people who control a great deal of power and influence in the U.S., people whose writings I loathe to the point where I will not link to them beyond mentioning their names and the places where other, better writers than I can deconstruct their vileness, people like Ralph Peters, and Michael Oren, and Jonah Goldberg. And people who, despite their multiple failures, despite the record of their long history of stupidity, lies, deceptions and corruption - people like Dick Cheney, John MCain, Paul Wolfowitz, Dick Perle, Newt Gingrich - are still given time and public space to influence other Americans and persuade them towards the toxic view that if this young woman's protest fails and the leaders her tyrannous rulers have foisted on her refuse to bend to the will of my country the only correct action that my country should take is to attack her country, bomb her cities, and in the process likely destroy her home, and her workplace, and her foodmarket, and her friends and neighbors.And I know this. The day that I allow that to happen, the day that my nation attempts to make her nation do what we want because we are too foolish, too afraid, or too angry to be patient and use the negotiation of the large and strong, by sending the aircraft, bombs and missiles I have paid for with my taxes and, in doing so, kills or tears this woman or someone like her tobloody rags, without my trying my utmost to stop them, is the day that I become a smaller, weaker person, and my nation beomes smaller and weaker, as well.