If Only Everyone Had To Clean Up Their Own Mess

There's a prayer that goes like this: Great Spirit, grant that I may not criticize another until I walk a mile in his moccasins. I use the Native American style one because that's the way I heard it first; there are millions of variations. It's a classic, especially in these modern times, when you can do so much from a distance without exerting yourself more than pushing a button, or without ever having to see, smell or hear the results of your actions.

That insulation can make people monsters. That's one negative to the positive-laced internet: the age-old challenge of "Say it to my face," no longer applies. (Is there a modern equivalent? Oh yeah? Say it to my blog? No, I guess that doesn't work. Anyway!)

As a writer, I've always held in the highest contempt other thinkers who say things like "We'll bomb you into the stone age." As if this person had any authority to actually command that; as if that person feels it's as simple as snapping their fingers; as if they don't care such a decision will result in massive suffering. As if to the max!

Words are a power, they can heal and harm. To see them so casually abused by vicious impotent cowards deeply offends me. Politicians who have never served in the military make decisions for the military and claim it will be easy. People who have never read a book on science (or even claim to believe in the concepts of books or science) are suddenly scientifically literate enough to determine there is in fact no global warming. Amazing!

Let them eat cake! Did Marie Antoinette really say that? Who knows, but her spiritual descendents sure act like they're on board with that program.

Someone once said those who casually call for war have never had to fight it, or clean up after it. If only Bush and Cheney had to visit each family that has lost a loved one due to their ongoing corpses-to-cash project in Iraq.

If only people who littered had to pick up their own trash, had to clean up their own mess, or couldn't dispose of trash somewhere else. If only everyone had to keep their refuse on their own property.

If only every person who flippantly referred to abortion as murder was ever in a situation with very few options, all of which tore their heart apart.

If only every rich person who instructed the poor to just get a job would be poor themselves.

Would any of this make a difference? I think it would to some, but to the employees of Bush Cheney Death Profiteering Incorporated, to truly evil greedy people like that, I think the epiphanies would be rare.

If only they had to walk a mile in another's moccasins. What began as a prayer for humility can also be a curse on the arrogant.

If only everyone had to clean up their own mess and store it on their own land. But the days of each person owning their land are over. Speaking of Native Americans, maybe that is the fulfillment of their curse on the invaders: no land and therefore, less power.

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Larry Nocella is the award-winning author of the novel Where Did This Come From? available at Amazon and Xlibris and other fine online book stores. Where Did This Come From? is also available as an eBook. For more info, visit Larry Nocella's website at http://www.larrynocella.com/.