Our Social Disease

The Spirit of Life that I felt early in life succumbed to my training, my acceptance of the social meme of violence. "Meme" is a term first coined by Richard Dawkins in his book The Selfish Gene, as a way to adapt evolutionary theory to social and cultural ideas and practices. A meme, as a idea, does not require supporting, scientific truth to spread. That the earth was flat was both a meme, a paradigm, and also untrue. The word paradigm has some very difficult definitions that I will spare you, but a simple one that works for me is that it is a meme that everybody accepts as truth, and that all other memes must fit into. That one big overriding idea sets a framework. From that framework we build our political structure, our prisons, our legal system, our conflict resolution programs, and even our ideas of what peace means. One such meme today is that violence is our natural, genetic, predisposition. The meme states that violence is an inextricable part of human nature, and that there can be no other way, even if it means the extinction of our species. There have been tomes written on this meme. Yet, if we place this self proclaimed paradigm under the magnifying glass it begins to sizzle until all that's left is a charred spot and some smoke.

Probably the best way to examine the human propensity to kill another human is boot camp. Here we train our young men and women to fore-go any consideration of human life and kill someone that they do not know and who has done nothing to them. We need not go back to the Vikings to understand this, but just as an aside, the Vikings were a brutal group and yet if we look at their decedents today we find a changed paradigm. In Sweden we find peaceful resolutions on the national scale. That alone is encouragement that even America could one day live in peace. I will take us on a nostalgic trip down memory lane to World War II. The soldiers of this war have been commemorated by Hollywood for their bravery in combat. I certainly do not dispute their bravery. But I do want to point out that when questioned on the battle experience it was discovered that only 15 to 20 percent of the American riflemen would fire at the enemy. US Army Brigadier General S.L.A. Marshall coordinated the study. He went on to corroborate this study in the larger European theater, conducted thousands of interviews in over 400 infantry companies and again the results were consistent with the American study. What Marshall discovered was that even with training and demonization of the enemy there was a reluctance to kill another human being. Could it be that maybe this paradigm of violence has a flaw, a loose thread, that if we pull at it long enough, the entire wool covering our eyes might unravel to reveal our true nature, one of peace.

The Army took Marshall's studies very seriously. They could not tolerate conscientious objectors on the battlefield. Posturing by shooting over the enemies head rather then through it threatened the hierarchical chain of command. Changes were made. In Korea the resistance to killing dropped such that over half of our boys fired at the enemy. By Vietnam the numbers showed that 90 to 95% of our soldiers had no moral qualms in firing into another living person. Today, when our children are directed to kill every boy child of fighting age in Falluja, Iraq, they no longer grow a conscience as their grandfathers might have, they are able to kill children. So boot camp has changed, utilizing psychological warfare, not on the enemy but on our own beloved children. They began a process called "violentization" by the renowned criminologist Lonnie Athens. His life and work is presented in the book, Why They Kill: The Discoveries of A Maverick Criminologist.

How are violent actors created? This question plagued me for many years. My thoughts and dreams turned to violence more often than not. Lonnie Athens had grown up in a violent home. His older brother became violent yet Lonnie did not. His life's work centered around answering the question of why. Why didn't he also become violent? And once violent can we bring them back, restoring them to their community? Lonnie identified four stages to violentization.

The first stage is the Brutalization Stage. Within this stage the violent subjugation of the person takes place. This could be a drill sergeant spitting curses into the fresh faces of his recruits. This could be a father. I recall a particularly hot summer day in Nampa Idaho when my father put me and my younger brother to work moving debris in my grandfathers back yard into a pile for disposal. My father had left us to our work. After a time my brother, tired and sweaty, asked if we could take a break. I saw no harm and made the executive decision for us to sit in the shade for a bit. My father came out in seconds, screaming, face red, that we were not finished yet. We quickly jumped up. I tried to explain that we were only taking a short break. My father picked up a piece of antennae wire, grabbed me by the hand and began wailing against my exposed legs. My brother ran off, escaping punishment for the moment. When my father left I looked down at the bleeding welts raising up, angry as my father, against my white skin. I quickly returned to work, my sight blurred by tears of anger. I kicked and threw the garbage into the pile until I was exhausted. My brother rarely escaped these beatings. He suffered from ADDHD so his behavior rarely met with my parents approval. I witnessed his being whipped so many times. I know that he ultimately became immune to this punishment. This is another method of brutalization that Athens calls personal horrification. It is bearing witness to the violent subjugation of members of the primary group, for example a mother, brother, friend or fellow recruit.

Violent coaching is the final aspect of the brutalization stage. In this the coach teaches violence by glorifying it in story, ridicule or coercion. My brother, Scott, hated to fight. As a result my father called him some ugly names like "pussy" and "coward". One day my brother was running home and my father locked the door on him. My brother screamed to be let in because a neighbor boy was after him. My dad screamed back that if he wanted in he'd better kick that other boy's ass. Fuelled by his anger at my father, Scott turned and walked reluctantly back up the street toward the other boy. Scott was easily twice this boys size. Scott hit him one time and he went down. My brother received the heroes welcome after that. He had learned to be violent. He finally earned his Kentucky redneck. When the other boy's father came down to talk with dad, dad cursed him and his kid. Needless to say we weren't real popular in that neighborhood.

That brings us to the second stage, the Belligerency Stage. This is where we see a light bulb blink on above the subjects head. To stop myself or my group member from being violently subjugated I will need to take violent action myself. But this is only the first, mental step, toward violence. Usually at this stage we see verbal abuse and threats, not physical. At the completion of this stage is the first violent action. In High School I became friends with Tori, a fiery red-head with a personality to match. I went to her house to spend the night. Her mother worked in the local liquor store and gave us each two bottles of Tickled Pink before she drove off with her boyfriend. We walked around the night streets in this backwoods area of Shepherdsville Kentucky. A car pulled up. Tori knew the two boys in the car. She liked one of them. So they joined us for a walk in a field nearby. One of the boys offered us some ludes (Quaaludes) and we each took one. She walked on with the fella she liked and they laid down. I did likewise with the other guy. He proceeded to kiss me and I pushed him away. I told him I wasn't interested. He continued to persist in his plans, trying to get his hand down my pants. I jumped up and in a very loud and drunk voice told him he could go "f--- himself because I wasn't interested". My friend heard the commotion and jumped up too, zipping her pants closed. About that time I heard a shot and whizz of a projectile nearby, followed by an angry voice shouting something to the effect of "you blankety blank kids better get outta here or I'll kill ya". So we ran, stumbling and stupid drunk. The two boys were way ahead of us. As we reached the end of the field we saw their headlights heading away. I apologized to my friend for interrupting her evening but she didn't mind. We stumbled along, singing "how dry I am" at the top of our voices, all the way back to her house. Her mom was still out and the door was locked. As the ludes and alcohol swirled lazily in our heads, we lay down in the grass, cuddled together and fell asleep. The next week at school, the girlfriend of the boy who had attempted to fondle me (or worse), Donna, accused me of sleeping with her boyfriend and said she was going to kick my ass. She had caught in the hallway at my locker, trying to snare me into her triangle of love. I was bigger and taller than her. I knew I would win a fight with her. So, in my calmest voice, my eyes square on hers, I told her that I would meet her at 7am in the back parking lot but that I wanted her to know that this fight was not about the piece of s-*^ that she called a boyfriend, but rather I wanted to kick her ass for being so stupid as to believe that sack of s"-*^ could ever be faithful or truthful to her. I'd fight her all right, but only because I'd enjoy it. It was agreed.

That night I bragged to my father that I had a fight for the morning. He didn't seem quite a supportive as he had for my brother. I drank vodka and took a few Valium, but I did that often enough that it seemed to effect me more like coffee by that time in my life. Then I imagined every possible way I could hurt this girl. I pictured her over and over going down against the pavement and me grabbing her hair and pounding her head into it until it opened up for me. I did everything to keep my adrenaline high. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to prove to my father and anyone else that wanted to hurt me that I was no push over. My father drove me down to the appointed spot. All was quiet. I waited, pumped up on coffee, but still she never showed. I was deflated. I went in to class. I spotted her later in the hallway and confronted her. She humbled herself to me. She apologized. She told me I was right about her boyfriend, who was no longer her boyfriend. It was not the victory I had hoped for and I felt cheated. I was securely in the stage of belligerency and I would remain there throughout my college career, but not once did anyone ever give me the opportunity to act upon my violent thoughts, except for my father. Looking back on this incident what disturbs me most is that I never once considered the impact her death or injury might have had on those who loved her. Nor did I think about her as anything more than my enemy. I had somehow demonized this girl. I had rationalized my aggression placing the blame squarely on her. After all she was stupid enough to be with this jerk, so isn't this just survival of the more intelligent.

In observing my fellow Americans I've concluded that I am not alone in this state of belligerency. But here most of us stop the progression. Athen's speaks of the enormous energy, he even calls it courage, that it takes to actually go the next step, that of seriously injuring or even killing another human. This step is both frightening and dehumanizing. Athen's third stage is Violent Performances. Beyond making the resolution, a pact with violence, here the subject attempts real violence, uncertain of the outcome. If Donna and I had come to blows in the parking lot as planned, we would have instantly been surrounded by a ring of other students screaming and urging us onward. In the end one of us would have achieved notoriety in the hallways of the high school, while the other nursed their wounds. It's this reputation that sets in motion the next stage. Being respected and feared by your collegues makes the subject feel safe. This, after all, is the ultimate goal.The final stage is Virulency. With new fame comes confidence. Athens states the the subject becomes "overly impressed with his violent preformance and ultimately with himself in general." My father had his in-group, not unlike a gang but without the formalities. Many in this gang were brothers and cousins, the Cash boys. One had been a wife beater until the day that she could handle no more and hanged herself. All of these men were violent. They glorified their violence in recounting stories together while drinking and smoking pot. One night I opened the door only to see another door. John, Dad's close friend, had put his fist through a door in a rage. The swollen bloody fist could not then free itself. The group had removed the door from it's hinges and brought him to our house so dad could use his skillsaw to free him. Lucky for John, he didn't lose his hand in this druken episode. This group of belligerents scoured local bars looking for Mexicans. When they found a lone Mexican enjoying a cerveza they would begin antagonizing him. Eventually convincing the man to exit the bar and fight. I don't know if they ever killed anyone, but I hope not. This practice is clearly in the virulent stage. I doubt that my father was the instigator of this action, but his acquiesence was the same as approval.

Athen's believes that women often lack the coaching to become violent, but there are cases that show that these same stages work regardless of gender. These stages are independent of class, intelligence, race or age. The only requirement is the physical and mental competence necessary to perform a violent criminal act.

The question remains on how to bring someone back. With nearly 95% of our troops in Iraq and Afghanistan in this final stage of violentization we must find a way. The numbers for domestic violence are on the rise as are suicides. Post traumatic stress disorder, PTSD, is an epidemic among our children serving. They return to civilian life with a bottle of happy pills, sleeping pills and any other pills that might numb the cacophony of sound and images rattling between their ears. There's only one known antedote to this and that is a spiritual solution. It is a return to the pure state, before the subjugation, the coaching and the action, where the Spirit of Life could still be heard. It won't come in a pill. It takes hard work on both the part of society and the part of our wounded. We first must listen compassionately to the stories they tell. They need to tell them so many times, until the story loses it's power to break them apart. We must suffer with them. What they have been forced to do they did for us and we owe them our love and compassion. So listen. So cry with them. Go to a Winter Soldier event. Read their poetry and blogs. Hold them in their hour of despair. When all the stories are out, a quiet will ensue. They may try to drown it out at a local bar or dance club, but eventually they may hear it. The Spirit will speak just as it did for Leo Tolstoy, as it has for millions throughout the history of our species. When we listen to Life, we will stop training our children in the devastating art of violence.

International Day in Support of Victims of Torture

Since its creation in 1945, the United Nations has worked to eradicate torture. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights in its Article 5, proclaims that "no one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment".

On 10 December 1984, the UN General Assembly (Resolution 39/46) adopted the Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment (CAT). This Convention, which entered into force on 26 June 1987, obliges States to make torture a crime and to prosecute and punish those guilty of it. It notes explicitly that neither higher orders nor exceptional circumstances can justify torture.

It was an important step to acknowledge that torture, and all forms of inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment, are absolutely and universally illegal. Proposed by Denmark, the UN General Assembly in December 1997 marked the historic date - 26 June - as International Day in Support of Victims of Torture.

When I read Sister Dianna Ortiz's book, The Blindfold's Eyes, the reality of torture came into painful focus for me. What I find even more disturbing is that the men torturing her (and many others) were trained at Ft Benning Georgia at the School of the Americas. To learn more about America's school for assassins visit here. Torture is terrorism in its worst form. It isn't about getting information, it's about sending messages. The message that the U.S. has sent to the world by allowing our leaders to torture without any culpability is that we all endorse this cruelty. Why do the women at Abu Ghraib want someone to kill them?

From Daily Kos' partial transcript of a video (link to REAL stream) of Seymour
Hersh speaking at an ACLU event. He says the US government has videotapes of
children being raped at Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq.

" Some of the worst things that happened you don't know about, okay? Videos, um, there are women there.
Some of you may have read that they were passing letters out, communications out
to their men. This is at Abu Ghraib ... The women were passing messages out
saying 'Please come and kill me, because of what's happened' and basically what
happened is that those women who were arrested with young boys, children in
cases that have been recorded. The boys were sodomized with the cameras rolling.
And the worst above all of that is the soundtrack of the boys shrieking that
your government has. They are in total terror. It's going to come out."

These are our children raping their children. Our boys and girls proudly going to serve their country, and then being turned into the worst monsters imaginable. How can we live with this, and how can our children live with this on their souls? Why do you think so many of our brave soldiers are coming back and killing themselves? This is not just torture, but child pornography of the worst kind. This is what Obama's administration does not want to see released. So I'm sure the CIA is busy with the shredders and incinerators. The evidence can be destroyed, but the scars and hate will live on and grow.

If you want to better understand how a good American kid can become an evil torturer watch this TED talk with Phil Zimbardo, or read his book, The Lucifer Effect. Be forewarned, the TED talk has graphic scenes of violence from Abu Ghraib.

If you feel as angry as I that our government allows this terrible inhumanity to continue, please take time to visit TASSC and/or NRCAT and see what you can do to stop this.

Back to the Blog

I've been too long gone from the blog world. New love blossomed this Spring and I found myself lost in that wonderfully warm and fuzzy world of fresh beginnings. But the world has continued to spin, people have continued to fight and die, there are new widows and orphans and more pain. There were also small victories happening too. On February 13th, Umar Jaleel, a Sri Lankan peaceworker with Nonviolent Peaceforce was kidnapped by nine armed men from the NP house in Mindanao in the Philippines. He was released by his captors last week, ending the four month ordeal. His freedom was not bought with ransom, but rather with words. You can learn more about Jaleel's release here.

The GLBT world community is gaining recognition of their human rights after many decades of nonviolent struggle. In March, Sweden became the seventh country to recognize same-sex marriages. Although the US is not quite there yet, just this month New Hampshire became the sixth state to recognize same-sex marriage. Ironically, California slid backwards in this effort, but only temporarily.

As we celebrate Jaleel's release, and celebrate the growing recognition of love and relationship in our world, we also watch the unfolding trial of another nonviolent hero, Myanmar's pro-democracy leader Aung San Suu Kyi. Suu Kyi was coming up for release from house arrest, but that possibility is being challenged. An American man violated the terms of her house arrest by swimming to her island home, believing he'd recieved a message from God to protect Suu Kyi. Her generous heart could not force the exhausted man to leave without giving rest and food first. As a result she is facing up to five years in a prison known for torture and harsh conditions. The world is not standing by idly, but letters, phone calls and protests are growing as the junta drags out the proceedings. If love calls you to act on behalf of this great woman visit Amnesty International for ideas. The Buddhist Peace Fellowship is also posting actions as they learn about them.

Here at home things have been grim as I listen to Cheney explain his great fondness of waterboarding. Reviewing the Pew survey on American attitudes toward torture shows that 4 out of 10 Americans believe torture is "often" or "sometimes" justified. If we look at the demographics more closely we find that this number increases to 6 out of 10 for Southern Evangelicals. I find it troubling that these self proclaimed warriors of God entertain the idea that threat power and pain are the best methods for getting answers and control over others. The life of the nonviolent, self-sacraficing Jesus was clearly wasted on them.

Of course when the graphic photos and videos slip out the crap rolls downhill and it's our young girls and boys in uniform that are labeled "bad apples" and are portrayed as going off on their own to torture. Philip Zimbardo, notorious for his controversial Stanford Prison Experiment has much to offer on this topic. I do warn that the images he shows of Abu Ghraib in this TED talk, even edited as they are, are quite graphic. If these images trouble you, can you even begin to imagine the ones that our President has decided to keep from us because they are "too troubling". Zimbardo gives us a way to the future. Instead of teaching our children to go with group think, let's teach them to be heros and nonviolent heros at that.

In closing, we've seen lots of ups and downs in the world of nonviolence over the last three months, but at least we're seeing both. In honor of our hero Aung San Suu Kyi, I will end with quote by her and with the wish that we all have the opportunity to live up to our full potential. "Human beings the world over need freedom and security that they may be able to realize their full potential."

Emotional Hobo

Relationships are a conundrum to me. My affections have recently been sparked, my imagination whirling in possibilities only to be reeled back to the ground forcibly by my reason tinged with my perception of reality. Relationships challenge us all. Our species yearns for deep connection with the other. Some can satisfy that craving by serving their Lord, or Truth, dedicating their lives and their passions toward the greater good of all sentient beings. When I've practiced this in short periods of experiment I find myself swimming in a steady stream of contentment. I notice my emotional life no longer undulates from extreme peaks of joy down to dark sloughs of despair. I become an emotional hobo, riding down a middle rail. But this takes great discipline for me. The hobo life is a lonely one. The dynamic waters of this physical existence are in themselves a strong lure. Just as in sea kayaking I feel myself called to this challenge, to be able to navigate the winds, tides and waves of relationship and not lose my bearing. So far in this life I have failed to get beyond the breakers without disorientation. But if love calls I will answer, donning my personal flotation device and relaxing into the rolls. Whether I paddle into the sunset of my Truth alone or not, I vow to enjoy this ride we call life.

To Discern and not to Judge

I participated in a conversation on the Israel/Palestine conflict yesterday. During the course of our dialogue we stumbled against the difference in discerning what is truth versus making a judgment. Merriam-Webster defines discernment as the quality of being able to grasp and comprehend what is obscure. But then who can judge whether someone is truly comprehended something that is obscure. Then we switch to the definition of judgment only to find out that it describes the process of forming an opinion or evaluation by discerning and comparing. The subtle difference seems to be that in judging one concludes with an opinion in that matter, while discernment avoids making the transition into opinion. Judgment can also be made based on beliefs or assertions.

Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh shared a terrific story that helps in dividing these subtle nuances. While nailing on a project in his garden, he left thumb was struck by the hammer. He immediately dropped the hammer in his right hand, then that same hand that had injured the thumb unhesitatingly wrapped its fingers tenderly around the sore limb. He said that even though the left hand knew that the right had been guilty of causing its suffering, it did not avoid the tenderness now shown, nor did it demand to have the hammer so that it might repay in kind the injury done it. The sore thumb discerned the reality of the situation without jumping to judgment or assumption that the injury was intentional or a repayment of a previous grudge held by the right hand for the left.

What does this mean in regards to the Middle East problem? Maybe Israel and Palestine are these two hands, Left and Right respectively, but neither trusting the other. At this present time the Left hand has hit the Right, leaving the bone shattered and exposed. If trust is to ever return to these hands, the Left must drop its hammer and comfort and care for the Right. If the Left can restore health and vitality to the Right, both hands might be able to hold one another, and the world, in a gesture of peace.

Let us end our judgments and begin to heal. May Israel's heart open to its neighbors, providing care, comfort, homes, hospitals, schools, food, medicine and love. If they continue to hit their Right hand with the hammer of hatred soon they will be left with no hand, only a bloody stump. It is their hatred that led to Hamas gaining power. When poor people have no options they turn to gangsters for help, but if Israel had been a caring neighbor to those they had left homeless then the world would be a safer place not only for them but all of us. And for the victor in war to show such care to it's victims would have won the Jewish people the highest of esteem from all people of all religions across the world. They did not, but there may still be time for them to change their ways. If they continue on this brutal trajectory I fear that antisemitism will increase world wide and we don't need to return to that.

May they have the courage to lead the world, showing us that they are capable of real and lasting peace. Because if peace can break out there, peace will be possible everywhere.

For the Love of Physics - Happy Valentines Day

Most of my friends know that I love Physics, so much so that I ended up with a degree in it. But I'm sure you're wondering why I'd blog on something like my love of Physics on Valentines Day. What could Physics have to do with love. Admittedly, I'm single and home alone, so this may be the result of boredom but bear with me.

Newtonian Physics were straightforward and easy to visualize in my mind. Place some weights and forces on some slides and pulleys, examine the triangles and friction, shake it up with trigonometry and algebra, and suddenly the Whole Universe split open into easy to understand concepts. Every second year Physics student might think, "gee, this stuff is easy". But then we leave the sane macro world easily examined by the five senses and enter a world that can only be intuited through complex and advanced mathematical gymnastics. The human brain becomes the contortionist, bending itself around multiple dimensions of space, where electrons vanish and then reappear without giving away their travel plans. Then enters Heisenberg and his disturbing uncertainty principle. People of science are not comfortable with "uncertainty". He tells us that it is not possible to know both the location and the speed of an object under study because a soon as we attempt to measure one value, the other will become even more uncertain, the certainty with which we can know these values are inversely proportional so if certainty of position is increased then the momentum or speed certainty is decreased. What this suggests, which has become known by the name "observer effect", is that the mere act of observation changes the object being observed. This seems to rise above the physical world and into a world of magic and mist. It's a world that says if I look at you I change you.
Stepping cautiously from the realm of Physics to that of Metaphysics we see a similar concept emerge. Have you ever been sitting in a room of strangers, or on a bus, and felt eyes burrowing into the back of you skull turn to look and find indeed someone looking directly at you? I think most people have experienced this. Even our animal friends seem to be attuned to this phenomena. My cat may be sound asleep next to me, but if I look at her for very long her eyes open and she returns the stare. Remember that moment when you first made eye contact with your love and felt an explosion of butterflies set free from the daisy fields of your root chakra. Buddha instructs us to be our own observer. Do we change under our own gaze? I believe we do. We are much more powerful beings than we give ourselves credit for. Our eyes are more than just windows to the soul, they are doors that we chose to open or close to others. Why is it that when we're wounded and hurting we avert our eyes from others? We know that our eyes will give away our emotions, whether tears are present or not. When I want to make a complicated argument I look away from the eyes of the person I'm talking with so as to not get lost in their reaction to what I'm saying until I've completed the thought, then I immediately seek out their eyes to see if my words have resonated or been lost in translation. When I'm happy and secure I make eye contact with everyone that passes by me but on days when I'm down or distracted by the business of my life, I rarely engage, robbing both myself and others of this gift we all have to share.

As a child and as a mother I know both that look I got when I was trespassing on dangerous grounds and the look I give my own daughter when she does something I don't approve of. I also know the look she gives me when we're connecting and communicating, or the amazing smile she gifts me with when I've acknowledged her great creativity and individualism. By observing one another we change each other. The change may be subtle. Your eyes tell me if you like my look, my new haircut, my clothes, or even my gender and how I present myself. Your mouth may say one thing, but your eyes rarely lie. Each of us, from our earliest moments of life, have accepted these unsaid criticisms from others. We have an image of ourselves as we want to be and search the eyes of others seeking a reflection of that image and when it's not there we alter path, or become depressed.

It is here where science meets religion. Science can't explain why our observation changes the behavior of the observed. Science admits it doesn't know everything there is to know because if it did all scientists would be out of jobs. True religion, likewise, is experiential, a daily deepening into the unknown through prayer and meditation, reflection and contemplation. Extremists claim to know all there is and maybe that's why they're bored and driving the rest of us crazy with their Intelligent Designer, Creation Museum and the promotion of racist wars to hurry God along to Armageddon. But the religious contemplative accepts uncertainty, sits with it, and then smiles at the next person passing by. There is no greater religion or science than that of love. It is my belief that we are one, each of us like a ray from the same shining star, and when we look at each other in love we feel ourselves closer to that whole. We must look for that light in each others eyes. We must also recognize how deeply buried it can become under years of filters like unyielding dogma, abuse, neglect, anger, mistrust and endless other scars and scratches becoming cloudy cataracts over our beautiful lenses. When we see those scars in others, we cannot continue to avert our own light giving gaze, but rather burn through that haze to reflect to them that they truly are a beautiful human being.

So the next time that you pass by me please smile and look me in the eye, even for a brief moment, so that we might reflect to each other the Infinite light of love. And if your bored maybe we can go out for a coffee and talk Physics for awhile.

On that I invite you to enjoy the following Peter Gabriel video, a long time favorite song of mine, In Your Eyes.

An Evening with Parke Burgess

Join us for another adventure in nonviolence as we welcome author Parke Burgess as our guest speaker. He will discuss his book Our Tragic Flaw, A Case for Nonviolence. For the first time in the history of life, a single species has acquired the means to destroy itself and all other living things on the planet. By most indications—if we ignore what it says but examine what it does—this species seems perversely bent upon its own destruction. This species, of course, is us. How did we come to imperil ourselves? And why do we continue to do so? Is it too late to change course? If not, how can it be done?
The discussion will be followed by a reception where Parke will gladly sign books. $10 donation suggested, but no one turned away for lack of funds. This event is hosted by First Unitarian Peace Action and Peaceforce Oregon.

Time and Place
Date: Friday, February 20, 2009
Time: 7:00pm - 9:00pm
Location: First Unitarian Curch of Portland, Channing Room
Street: 1011 SW 12th Avenue
City: Portland, OR

To learn more about Parke and his book visit OurTragicFlaw.com