PlazaJen: Passion Knit

I got myself riled up last night, in the middle of the night, about doing an art installation in my office to commemorate the 1,000 soldiers who have died in this war. It probably was stuck in my brain because of my snippity-snap jaw-setting conversation with James earlier that evening, because he thinks we're fighting the Good Fight, and those soldiers' families are proud of the service they gave to their country. This is from my conservative husband, who has a huge admiration for the military because he wanted so badly to join it out of high school, but wasn't able to. Still. It's pretty hard to trump my argument, which is, Yes, I don't deny they're proud, but they'd trade it for another chance to hold their father/uncle/wife/child in their arms again. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe they wouldn't. I just don't think love can come second to anything.

I hate this war. Death is upon us too easily and quickly, without putting bombs and automatic weaponry into the mix.

My first thought was to cut 1,000 rectangles of black plastic, to represent the body bags, and have them suspended from the acoustical tile ceiling. Then I thought I should knit something, maybe put each person's name on the knitted rectangle.

James is right, one thousand is not a lot of death given how long we've been there, and oh yes, Saddam Hussein was/is a bad man, no longer in power.
But.
We went there because of ..... wasn't it Osama? and wasn't it for the WMD - and how insane is it that we have evolved to that acronym? - WMD's that weren't there?? And when there are other heinous, horrible dictators who are allowed to continue oppressing, continue slaughtering, continue their denial of human rights, but because they don't sit on oil fields or represent a history of fighting with the U.S., we just let them be? You can't tell me this was all for the Greater Good.

I was reminded of George Bush Sr.'s "Thousand Points of Light" speech. The utter absurdity of it then, the weighty symbolism to me, now.

One Thousand.
Points of Light.
One Thousand.
Dead Soldiers.
One Thousand Points.
Shimmering Light.
Become Stars over Stripes.
Shine as Stars in the Sky.
May their Grace and Light forgive us.

If it is true, "uneasy lies the head that wears the crown", then I am satisfied. Nobody should sleep well, and you can bet 1,000 U.S. families do not tonight. Uneasy Sleep, Dubya.