Reading Robert Fisk’s latest essays from Iraq have really given me a dire sense of the casualties I knew would exist, but didn’t exactly know existed. (IraqBodyCount.net claims to be creating a tally of civilian casualties, but their sources are various media, so I’m not sure what to think of them.)
Taking my thoughts in a completely different direction for a minute, (and I assume I can only do this because I am so far removed from everything), if I wanted to be a reporter, and I’m not saying I do… some part of me would want to be there… in the middle of the war. What does it change about you — being near that much destruction? I pretty much think I would still be a pacifist, but I have said before that I would probably change my mind pretty quick, looking down the barrel of a gun. (hence the previous post wanting to buy a gun…)
Anyway, there is some distant rumble inside of me… some part that thinks I will never be great unless I take a step off the deep end. For a moment, reading these reports, I knew that Robert Fisk is a great man, and that if I ever amount to anything near what he has in my lifetime, I will have been successful.