Monday, November 8

Bush, since your election on November 2 I have been away on retreat. I returned late Sunday, November 7, to find you poised for an American attack on the insurgents based in Fallujah; and today, Monday, Novemver 8, I wake to find the assault already under way. Bush, there's a terrible irony here: you have me rooting for the insurgents. I have to be honest here, but I'm listening to the gut, and this is what the gut is telling me. I don't like myself for it, but I like your war, and your conduct of it, even less. The news reporters tell us on the television that the insurgents in the city are chanting "God is Great!" amongst the explosions. Doesn't that tell us something? Doesn't that tell us that they believe in their God-cause with as much raw passion as you believe in yours?
Bush, I have little time today to say anything further, but I vow to you now that I will find some time each day to talk to you. I acknowledge that I can not expect you to fulfill your side of this conversation, so this practice may not be completely fair. But then, you have the sword. Metaphorically of course. I have the pen. This is just a beginning, to put you on notice that I am implacably opposed to what you seem to believe you are given to do. We will talk more.