Wishing For Ignorance


An interview with a journalist on the radio just now-- not KPFA (I had to take a break, they were listing the military affinities of my city's mayor Jerry Brown- letting the military conduct urban combat training in Oakland- it was too painful to remember)-- on NPR-- the journalist was talking about the reality of the civilian casualties, and the furious reactions of soldiers' families who have lost their children to Bush's war. He said that one US pilot pointed out that in Gulf War One not all pilots had been wearing night vision goggles. Now they are all wearing them. He's not sure it is better for them to wear them, because it allows them to see what they are doing perfectly.



I was a teenage firebrand in Northern New York on a science field trip to Fort Drum (the division that invaded Afghanistan first, and the largest land training grounds on the East Coast, and when I lived there also the base with the highest DWI, suicide, and domestic abuse rates). They handed me the new fangled night vision goggles, a toy we could play with for a few minutes as they got our MRE's together for our picnic lunch. It was spring of 1990, about seven months before we attacked Iraq the first time. The whole world turned eerie green. I imagined stealing the goggles... I didn't. Who is holding them, who is watching the streets of Baghdad through such goggles, who is looking into the other end of them, I don't want to know. I just don't want to know.