me in the piazza

I'm a writer, publishing both as SJ Rozan and, with Carlos Dews, as Sam Cabot. (I'm Sam, he's Cabot.) Here you can find links to my almost-daily blog posts, including the Saturday haiku I've been doing for years. BUT the blog itself has moved to my website. If you go on over there you can subscribe and you'll never miss a post. (Miss a post! A scary thought!) Also, I'll be teaching a writing workshop in Italy this summer -- come join us!
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orchids

They're kidding, right?

I'm often behind in my newspaper reading, so I didn't see this story from the Sunday NY Times until now. I quote you the first paragraph in its entirety:

"A long-running effort by the Bush administration to send home many of the terror suspects held at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, has been stymied in part because of concern among United States officials that the prisoners may not be treated humanely by their own goverments, officials said."

With a straight face, officials said that? We can torture and abuse them in ways condemned by both the Red Cross and Amnesty International, but we can't send them home because we're worried for them?

Y'all remember Hitler's tactic of The Big Lie? Tell one big enough and often enough, and people will believe it. This works partly because people can't believe anyone would be bald-faced enough to actually tell a whopper like the above if it's a whopper; therefore, against their better judgment, they think it has to be true.

This is, again, one of the many times I find myself hoping against hope that you do get reborn, over and over, into the life you're fashioning for yourself from the life you're living now.


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