In Which Our Heroine Waits for the Secret Service to Arrive at Her Door
Now, I know from my website tracker that there's someone at the Department of Justice who reads this weblog far more faithfully than I update it, but I think this time the Secret Service could be dispatched. No, I have not threatened the President. That's against my theories as a pacifist. But I did send Dubya an e-mail. I was provoked to do so by those truly appalling ads invoking 9/11 for him to get re-elected. The whole thing was just too much to take. I mean, he's toting it around as he champions his "leadership" in the days following, but I don't really remember him actually *doing* anything that made me feel inspired that someone was in charge. Al-Queda? Still going, last time I checked, despite lots of my hard earned tax dollars flowing towards his great plans. Civil liberties? Not so many as we used to have, thank you Mr. Ashcroft. (Ok, I admit, I consider John Ashcroft's acute pancreatitis to have similar origins as the guy who plays Jesus in Mel Gibson's new movie getting whacked not just once but twice by lightning during filming. Which just goes to prove that the difference between schadenfreude and religious belief is pretty much a question of interpretation.) Jobs? Nope. What does that have to do with security? I know I feel a lot less secure not having a job.

So anyway, I lost it. It just seemed like rubbing salt in very open national wounds to use those images in what is basically a job application to the American public. And I was mad enough to track down his e-mail (president@whitehouse.gov, should you wish to do the same thing) to drop him a note to say "I didn't like this and I wanted you to know it." Except I dont' think he got it. It bounced back to me saying there was too much mail in the queue. Maybe everyone else was just as incensed as I was, but sadly I doubt it.

To get this off my mind, Liz and I took advantage of our local art house theatre to see a combination of five academy nominated short films at one go. An incredible evening, if a bit schizophrenic. It started off with the incredibly powerful "The Red Jacket" (Die Rote Something in its original language), which is somewhat set in the middle of the Bosnian conflict. In showing just how powerful not seeing something can be, there is a moment where the main character is shot. You don't see the bullet wounding, or the victim as it happens, but that shot got fired and I swear to you my heart stopped, my breathing stopped, time just suspended. I was too horrified to even gasp. From that 15 minute film, it went into the Oscar winning animation short, which was hysterically funny. And all the while my mind was still reeling from the movie I'd just seen. Then another movie set in Llubjanka during the Bosnian conflict, only not quite as shocking (it wasn't meant to be), but still there were bombs going off, which makes the mind shift again. Then more animated comedy. Then another serious drama short, only this time in present day France. Another excellent film, but very taut psychologically. Euow. My mind is still mulling it all over. But the overwhelming thought is to do go watch it again while I can!

Love,
Anne