I am not a ranter, what can I write about? Surely something gets my goat! I worry that I have become complacent. I think I am in denial. I delve inside to find my inner ranter and there you are! Finding you after two days of contemplation alive and well. Relieved I embrace you to myself as something precious that was left behind and now happily reunited.
How can I have blinded myself to youthful sacrificial murder as a response to radical religious belief? Bloody war sports, the scream of ‘terrorist’ increases daily. The media gluttonous in it’s telling. I need to rant my dismay. Hold my chest and pray for those tortured with grief that they find healing for their souls. Children starved of love and nurtured with hate blowing them up. So much denied. So much lost.
I recognize my inner rant I realize Denial is what gets up my goat. Denial steals life with its lies. I watch with anger the rampant denial of human rights that results from intolerance due to religion, race, gender, difference and age. It creates terror in its birthing, denial of humanity.
My 5-year-old grandson calls out to me from the lounge-room, “Grandma, you have to put this hat on ‘cause the baddies are coming.” I was looking in the Dollar shop today for bibs and bobs. Out of the corner of my eye I see a flash of black and silver. It was an English Police-woman party hat. I just had to have it. So this is the hat he is asking me to wear for his game.
I wear the Police hat and he says, “quick Grandma come over here they are killing people!” Apart from being initially horrified at the killings there was the aspect that Police are there to help. I hope that his belief in our justice system continues to be his experience through his life.
Working in the area of Domestic Violence I know lots of battered women that would disagree about their experience of ‘help’ from Police. Another denial of rights as well as ongoing abuse now from the systems that are meant to provide protection.
Am I expecting perfection? No only justice.
We have certainly had our share of denial in Newcastle. First the circus of the figs denied from Laman Street. I was fully against it. My voice loud among the committed protesters’. I remember scenes of everyday people using their bodies as barriers to protect the figs. Some brave souls (a couple quite elderly) climbing the figs to restrict the eventual. Now after the long drawn out battle of brave solidarity I now quite like the Laman Street change. Maybe they could do something though with the austerity of the ‘Berlin’ style Library? I started questioning the whole monetary debacle and protesting being a waste of time not just with the figs but now the Rail.
The denial the people of Newcastle experience as they scream and cry in frustration at the removal of our rail into the City. We are not heard as the whirring of cogs in the mighty corporate machine sails over our heads. All they hear is the babble of the insignificant and mindless. Their plan is greater than we could ever imagine supposedly. So here I am again. Protesting for something I believe in. Will we be denied again? Do I deny my self and the rest of the community minded people of Newcastle by not protesting? Of course not! That gets my goat!