Good morning, Osama. The wild Key West chickens aren’t even up yet, but I am because I dreamt about you and of waiting almost too long to write about 911. You like to send occasional missives to America, sharing your views. Here’s one to you, in return. It winds about a bit, which is not how mainstream Americans generally like to tell stories. But you come from a long tradition of poets and storytellers and are accustomed to the weaving of tales and perhaps will appreciate a bit of winding about in this one.
Last Sunday morning, I wandered over to Tropic Cinema, where Richard Grusin and Nancy Klingener, editor of locally-published Solares Hill, were interviewing on US 1 (104.1) Radio the three candidates for Harry Bethel’s seat on the Key West City Commission. Harry now is running for the Utility Board, after serving several terms on the City Commission. During one of the station breaks, the subject of war memorials came up. Richard said he was a Vietnam vet, and someone else spoke of going to the Memorial in Washington D.C. and of how moving the Black Wall was for him but how different it was for him than the World War II Memorial. As I listened, I wondered how many of our homeless people are Viet vets and vets of later American wars? I remembered going to the Black Wall myself in 1990, or maybe it was 1991, with the wife of one of my college fraternity brothers. Marty and Danny now were living in Alexandria, Virginia, and I was nearby on business and dropped in on them. I looked up the names of two of Danny’s and my fraternity brothers. Bill Settlemyer had volunteered into Special Forces some time before America was officially at war in Vietnam. John Templeton was in ROTC and later went to Vietnam because of that. Two wonderful young men, what a waste. I felt no reverence, no awe at the Black Wall. All I felt was sadness, regret and anger. I didn’t hold Vietnam against the men who went there, most of them had no choice. But I held it against our government. Vietnam wasn’t Nazi Germany. Ho Chi Min never threatened the United States, before or after we went to war in Vietnam.
You only had just released a new video, Osama, giving Americans the option of more attacks or converting to Islam. George W. Bush then publicly made light of you. I would never make light of you, Osama. Nor do American Intelligence Agencies make light of you. I do not agree with your methods, yet I understand why you use them. You are trying to win and are using methods that give you the best chance. You are smart. You knew how to bait America into retaliating, getting bogged down in a land war in the middle of Islam. If that had not happened, you would have viewed 911 as a failure. However, you have taken leave of your senses, Osama, if you really hope Americans will convert Islam, a religion historically alien to America, which is fundamentally Judeo-Christian. Even more important, Osama, true religious conversion has to come from the heart. It cannot be forced by gun and bullets, rockets and bombs. If you do not understand this, then you do not understand the heart and soul of Islam. Abraham no more wanted to cast Hagar and Ishmael out into the wilderness than he later wanted to sacrifice Isaac on the mountain.
Let me tell you another story, Osama. Three nights before 911, a voice I had come to trust with my life and soul asked me in my sleep, “Will you make a prayer for a Divine Intervention for all of humanity?” Waking with a start, I asked for a Divine Intervention for all of humanity. When my wife-to-be brought me news three mornings later of what had happened in New York City and Washington D.C., we were not freaked out. She knew of my dream, which we now understood had been an alert. We were bathed in a sense of reverence, awe and grace. It probably was the deepest moment of our relationship. We hoped America would not retaliate but would make an entirely different kind of response. We were not holding our breaths, though.
Three nights before the first anniversary of 911, the same voice asked in my sleep, “Will you make another prayer for a Divine Intervention for all of humanity?” This time, however, I made the prayer in my sleep, and then, still in my sleep, I added to the payer, “And let it begin in me!” Thereupon began my being turned every which a way but loose in my mind, ego, character and soul. Thereupon began my going through one season after another of being shown everything about me that did not suit God. It was nothing like what I was taught about God in Sunday school when I was a boy, or later in my teens in church, or even later in church after I was older. It was so different from what churches taught me that I wondered if churches knew anything about God at all? It’s still going on, but that gets ahead of my story.
Three nights before the next (second) anniversary of 911, I made the prayer before I fell asleep that night. Again, I ended it with, “And let it begin in me.” At that time, I was living in a homeless shelter in Key West and was in the mayoral race as a candidate ordered in dreams to do everything I could to get incumbent mayor Jimmy Weekely re-elected, if I knew what was good for me. I had already seen Jimmy at a City Commission meeting vote in favor of a resolution saying that the City of Key West was opposed to U.S. intervention in Iraq without United Nations approval and involvement. Before the vote, Jimmy had passionately said he did not want to see America fight another war over oil. Key West the Blue Newspaper, specifically, its publisher Dennis Reeves Cooper, crucified Jimmy in the next issue for saying that and voting in favor of the resolution, which passed by a majority vote, after a deeply divided public debate at Old City Hall, followed by an equally divided debate on the City Commission.
The other day, I went up to Florida Keys Community College to see Michael McPherson, Director of Continuing Education, about my teaching a course. Michael is incumbent mayor Morgan McPherson’s brother. I met them both, and their parents, when I was living in the homeless shelter in 2003, just as I was getting into that year’s mayoral. It was the church Morgan had started but by then Michael was its pastor, and his and Morgan’s mom and dad, Antoinette and Frank, were very involved. I liked Michael and his parents, felt they were seeking a deep relationship with God. I didn’t agree with them that Christianity is the only true religion, but I still liked what they were trying to do. When I saw Michael the other day, I shared some things about my life, and said that if God was doing to all human beings what God is doing to me, then perhaps fifty thousand individuals would survive. Try to imagine, Osama, what it would be like for you to have the jihad experience I am having. How would you cope with it? How would your religious and military advisers and soldiers cope with your being turned every which a way but loose by God? How would George W. Bush and his political and military advisers and constituents cope with him being turned every which a way but loose by God? Maybe not very well. Maybe not at all.
Here’s what I would have done, Osama, if I had been President on 911. I would make every effort to meet with you face-to-face, at a place chosen by you. I would offer to come alone, without any bodyguards or military backup. I would ask you what my country has done to cause you to hate us so much? I would ask if you really believe killing American civilians will solve anything? Then, I would thank you for the meeting and offer my own life as ransom for the lives of my country men and women’s lives, if you would accept it as such. If not, I would ask to be permitted to return to my country so I can do my best to lead America in a different direction from yet another war it cannot win and should not even wage. That’s what I would do if I was President on 911. Or try to do, because I cannot imagine the American intelligence community and the American military allowing its Commander-In-Chief to do something like that. I would make it publicly known, however, that I am trying to do it, and that, between you and me, the offer of my life as ransom for my country stands fast. It stands anyway. As does my offer to come to you, on your turf, alone. With Abraham and the angels who looked over and kept after him.
Sloan Bashinsky
mayoral candidate
623 Josephine Parker St. #102
Key West, Florida
Paid political advertisement, I suppose. Posted to Today’s Cock-a-doodle-doo at goodmorningkeywest.com, Kudos & Whiners Gossip Column at bigpinekey.com, and sent by email to about three hundred Americans, including a number of American journalists in the Florida Keys and elsewhere.
