The Way of a Peaceful Creation
Hearing creation stories always thrill me as what was once a speck of a thought could turn into such a huge impact on the society and culture we find ourselves. These stories span more than the traditional Judaeo-Christian Adam and Eve, or even the Iriquois’ turtle and
mother, but even span into ideologies and such as is read in Invitation to Peace Studies the beginnings of modern “nonviolent action” (122). This is further developed by Henry David Thoreau in his essay on “Civil Disobedience.” Within both of these sources there is an underlying call to action that can’t be ignored. When powers at hand are getting out of control it is up to the people to stand up in nonviolent action against the threat that is either being imposed or quietly setting up ambush.
Treating nonviolent action as a method of war is important to the rationalization and justification of it. Many people unfortunately believe that we can not live without war or violence and that humans are programmed for it, though war and violence are a means to death. Taking the non-combative course is necessary but must still take on some characteristics of war. So much energy and time is devoted to running scenarios and planning for the worst and best scenarios, and nonviolent action requires the same if not a little less of this. If this sort of discourse was spoken more often in real war situations we would certainly see a much more rational means to an end of the war. The act of war isn’t reserved for whole countries violently fighting interstate wars but is also standing up against an institution or program, law, etc. to positively affect our own situations on behalf of humans and their rights.
A population growing restless is a threat to the order and governance of a government that is why peaceable solutions need to happen when these arise. Gene Sharp “described 198 different nonviolent actions used in dozens of nonviolent campaigns across diverse societies and eras” (122) but perhaps some of these nonviolent campaigns came too late. As is later pointed out in the text some of them moved on to actual wars within only a few years time. Then, I have to wonder how many heard the call to start speaking out in a positive light to try and quell the storm rather than waiting. Thoreau explains it just as I’d imagine that “they will wait, well disposed, for others to remedy the evil, that they may no longer have it to regret.” The regret paints the first sign of a brushed off obligation that one holds. The idea of waiting means they already have a goal in mind but have only time between them and that goal. Waiting is sometimes something that’s inevitable but actively waiting spells a totally different story.
The truth that is making the distance between action and inaction lesser is the availability of facts and methods. “Never again will people be…faced with inventing tactics on their own” (122) to combat what ails us as a nation. I have waited long enough to have the guilt to begin weighing on me. If I’m getting discouraged because no one is standing up and saying “Enough!” then maybe it’s time someone like me does. There is enough good intention in this world that could strengthen the pleas and add formula and further planning to such an outcry. There is a lot that goes into organizing and pulling off such a strong feat with building momentum. But as with all creation stories it could be your spark that starts the new beginning.
Thoreau, Henry David. “Civil Disobedience.” Blackboard. Sdccd.blackboard.com. 1849. web.2 Oct. 2016
Wood, Houston. Invitation to Peace Studies. Oxford. Oxford University Press. 2016.
I sit here at oh, at three thirty nine in the morning writing a blog to a few people that might one day catch a glimpse of an article I have written. Or maybe someone has decided to do some research into the idiotic novelist that thought he gained inspiration through Hemingway. Either way it’s the three thirty nine IN THE MORNING that bothers me more than anything else.
Today I have finally finished the first draft of my latest novel “The Unexpected”. The repercussions have been just that, unexpected. I only moved from my chair from four o’clock till midnight a handful of times to grab a fresh beer or to smoke a cigarette. The computer is working considerably slower and the poor keys have been punched all day long (minus the Tildie button). The research and all finally came together in my final stretch of imagination that was cleverly put to paper. Then after say eight beers and eight hours of writing I step out on the back porch for a smoke. The wifey calls and says that he’ll be leaving within the half hour. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what I was going through.
Last night I couldn’t get to sleep until five thirty in the morning which I was woken only four hours later by the wonderful sounds of snoring. Today after staring at a computer screen for so long and forgetting to eat I sat on the back porch of my house which is located only five blocks from center city and I start seeing hallucinations! Where was this feeling when I was busy smoking purple haze and consuming dangerous amounts of homemade absinthe? So here I am smoking a cigarette when out of the corner of my eye I see this head bob up from the neighbors grill and slide quickly behind the garage. I feel a bit jumpy but I continue to stare at this spot to see if this person pokes their head around the corner. Nothing happens for a good two minutes. I can hear some kids down the street (probably doing exactly what I described just a bit ago; purple…). I turn to ash my cigarette into the appropriate container when I swear I see a pasty white face walking from the dining room and into the kitchen looking directly at me. I do a double take.
“What the hell was that?” I ask myself as I move around to see what might have made that illusion. Let’s try nothing. Now I am getting a bit jumpy. I look down the small alley way on the side of my house half expecting to see a crazy ghost coming out of the bushes or worse yet a bigfoot or something. Nothing. I looked back to where I first saw a head bob along and there was still nothing there. Putting the cigarette out I try not to think about anything when I hear a set of keys being put on the dining room table.
“Babe!” I yell a second before my phone goes off. It’s his work, and he called to tell me that he was going to be home soon. So where did that noise come from? Chills are running up and down my arms. The book I’m working on has forced me to be creative with my imagery and imagination but now it seems as if it’s supercharged. I walk cautiously up the stairs looking in every corner of the house, then fearing that I’m going to round a corner to some sort of demon standing there.
Okay, then we go to bed. I am laying there thinking of how I could make a miniature Apache helicopter that I could fly as a one seater. Here I go thinking over specifics, I want a roll cage made of the strongest steel. It would have to be light, but you couldn’t lift it so on that steel cage I would need to have four hook holes attached, just to keep her steady during transportation. I wonder how long the blades have to be? Why would I do this? I could attach model rockets to the side that I could fire at reenactments or something.
I am horribly sorry that this entry wasn’t a very informative one. I am documenting the art of writing as best I can and thus felt this of importance. ( I was also hoping that by the end of it I would be tired…which isn’t so.) Pretty much imagination has been flowing so steadily that when I came back to reality there were some terrifying side effects of halucinations and insomnia. Just so you know.
If you have had an episode like this or think I just need some professional help, please comment
Caleb A. Mertz