Life in the zone…

When I began this blog it was Memorial Day, and the Air and Water Show had fighter planes buzzing by over head.  I cringed at the sound of jet engines so close to my home, and I couldn’t help but think about folks who live in actual combat zones.  This blog is an attempt to remember one life in a combat zone, lest I forget.

I’ve spent a lot of time flailing about, reacting to injuries and injustices without a framework to properly contain them.  In a real sense, those injustices were atmospheric: I found myself boxing the air at sexism, racism, classism, colonialism, and homophobia.  I swung at phantoms until I learned the language to correctly name (and thus tame) the sins that haunted me.  And now I write about these: each written word a blow (even if ever so slight) against the tyranny of a singular or monolithic worldview.

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