I think it has been two weeks since my last post, since that time we’ve rang in the new year, I’ve gotten sick with a head cold, and innocent people in France were murdered over a cartoon. A tragedy like that changes the world, especially when it was over something so trivial.
How insane must someone be to want to kill over a cartoon? Immediately this tragedy reminded me of the murder of Theo Van Gogh. Yes, the ancestor of the great painter.
On 2 November 2004 Van Gogh was murdered by Mohammed Bouyeri, a Dutch-Moroccan Muslim. He was named after his paternal uncle Theo, who was captured and executed while working as a resistance fighter during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands during World War II.Theo van Gogh was the great-grandson of Theo van Gogh, the brother of the world-famous painter Vincent van Gogh.
What a rich history, what an interesting family. This was in the Netherlands. Now France. I’m not going to into a tirade against Islam, because I know I this has nothing to do with Allah and everything to do with people being self-absorbed and insane. How fragile do you believe your God to be, that he needs you to kill for him? That he/she/it would take offense at a drawing or a film? From country to country, city to city, these extremists are leaving a bloody stain across the globe which no one seems to have a solution for. It is a very depressing, heart-rending start to the new year, primarily because things aren’t going to be get better. The people we trust for our safety and security, those trusted to serve and protect, have killed even MORE people than terrorists. Crime is at an all time low and yet it seems that death is all around us.
With all this terror going on, here I sit writing about the destruction of 19th century London, wondering what I am offering the world. I’ve often criticized the fans of the Walking Dead for their obsession with murder-porn, death for the sake of titillation, without character or story. How is what I am doing any different? Am I not just putting out more violence in the world?
Then I realized that isn’t what I do. The story isn’t about the zombies, or the deaths, or the violence. Neither is life.
My stories are about hope. People DO live, people DO survive, the human race continues on, despite the fictional zombie attacks or the real life terrorists. People find love in the darkest places, they find strength they never knew they had, they fight back with every ounce of their souls, that is what my stories are about. And that’s what life is about too.
Every life is story, all of them, intermingled and entwined together. Sometimes terrible things happen and good people die, their stories cut short, their endings tragic. Like characters in a novel though, we must push on, we must become the heroes of the stories that those innocent victims had cut short. Whether we settle for justice or vengeance is irrelevant, all that matters is the story must come to an end.
Hopefully someday these idiots will realize they are not the heroes of their faith, they are not chosen by their God to be the center of the plot. They are the bad guys, the villains, the disposable, forgettable merchants of evil who always get their dues eventually.
2015. Bad start. But this is only chapter 1.