They tell me my grandfather on my mom’s side was an alcoholic. I didn’t really know him before he died, but at his funeral they had a big felt banner about “God grant me the serenity ….”
I always thought it was called The Alcoholic’s Prayer, but I just searched the Internet – briefly – and was not able to get confirmation. Actually, I just searched again and found that it is called The Serenity Prayer.
It goes something like this:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can
And wisdom to know the difference.
I thought of this prayer today as The White House and the servile media jammed the president and his speech down my clenched throat. This war business has gotten too much for me.
Yesterday I got into a tense argument about war with two friends. We turned against each other.
It was something we didn't talk about a year ago.
Today was not the first time it dawned on me, but by recalling that prayer, it got me thinking I should just fucking relax and roll over. Short of becoming a human shield – which I would do if I weren’t in love with someone – there isn’t a goddamn thing I can do about war.
And talking about it – arguing, coaxing, opining – is just whistling in the wind.
Therefore, I do not give a fuck.
Kill each other. Impose your will on the weaker man. Rape and pillage.
Nothing I can do about it.
I don’t give a fuck.
And it feels good.