What Shall We Blow Up Today?

Boys blowing shit up. That phrase has been running through my head since last Thursday. It perfectly captures the way the world looks to me right now. I keep thinking of little boys so fascinated by explosives that they fail to see the consequences of their actions; they’re in it for the thrill, the power. Other kids get in the way? Too bad for them. And girls? Not allowed in. Mostly.

I have images of Trump, Putin, and Assad standing on the playground, hands filled with big exploding rocks. Kim Jong-un is off to the side somewhere, stomping his feet because they won’t let him play. And then there are the masses of other boys, who hate the guys who think they’re in charge and will do whatever it takes to knock them out. A few girls are trying to talk above the playground noise, but their words sail away on the wind.

And I’m losing my patience. I just want to send them all to their rooms until they calm down. I want them all to remember we share this planet.

Nice tidy ending? Don’t have one.



image courtesy of Pixabay.com


  1. Oh, Kathleen, I feel your angst. Then I think of my dad who, some 65 years ago, fought on the front lines in Korea. Not of his choice; he was drafted. And then I consider how many men died there and how the issues in that region remain all these decades later.

    These are scary times in so many places across this great wide world we share.


    1. Yes, absolutely. My dad was drafted into WWII; my older brother was far luckier and ended up doing Army service in France in the ’60s. That people cannot figure out how to live in peace and probably never will is such a disappointing realization. We are supposed to be an intelligent species but we’re not consistent in that regard.


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