"No Line on the Horizon"

Having spent the last 22 years enjoying (and unpacking) U2's lyrics and having spent 2 years inside Bono's head, I approach U2's latest work looking for the usual theme: Grace. The pursuit of, the desperate need for and, occasionally, the liberating experience of Grace. Really that describes what's important to me, which is probably why I connect so strongly to U2 and their themes: Grace, Love, Equality and Peace. I have argued for years that U2 is the Greatest Rock Band of All Time, and for several years (especially after Pop) not many agreed. All That You Can't Leave Behind stormed out in 2000 and I heaved a sigh of relief as U2 validated my adoration. With How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, U2 cemented its legacy, in my opinion.

I waited patiently (and a little nervously) for how U2 could follow up the last 2 blockbuster albums. I have my answer and I'm breathing deeply the complex aromas of hope and despair, love and grace. I find this latest album, No Line on the Horizon, contemplative. This album is a fine wine, there is a bouquet that you'll miss if you think it can be gulped. There is plenty of rock and the usual steady influence of universal themes, but compared to the previous 2 albums I find the album's motif much more personal. All That You Can't Leave Behind and How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb were "big" global themes where we traveled the globe in one Beautiful Day, we were blinded by the big City lights, we were sick of war and demanded Love and Peace or Else.

You'll find those subjects in No Line, but framed much more intimately. Bono doesn't want to talk about the wars between the nations, but we get the intensely personal experience of a dying soldier in Afghanistan. We share a few lonely, desperate hours in Unknown Caller. We experience the most effective "alone in the crowd" music in the haunting chords of Moment of Surrender. Is there anything more intensely personal than Being Born?

It's not all brooding introspection, of course, because you've already heard Get on Your Boots. I suspect Breathe is the most under appreciated song on the album, but if you can get through the inscrutable verses the choruses are sing your heart out awesome. And my favorite song on the album, Magnificent, has it all for me: it rocks, it's both personal and universal, and it captures a complex concept in a phrase.

Only love can leave such a mark, but only love can heal such a scar.

Speaking of turning a phrase, there is none better than Bono and there are many such bon mots here, such as the one above or "Choose your enemies carefully 'cos they will define you" or "While I'm getting over certainty, stop helping God across the street like a little old lady." As usual, every song has a few gems to mine. One from their last album that's been in my head this week, with the loss of my grandma, is "As you enter this world, I pray you depart with a wrinkled face and a brand new heart."

I won't have as long to wait for the next release. U2 plans to release another album this year, apparently called Songs of Ascent. Bono described it as "a kind of heartbreaker, a meditative, reflective piece of work, but not indulgent." I am overjoyed, you can imagine, but for now I continue to unpack and enjoy No Line on the Horizon.

Out From Under Your Beds C’mon Ye People Stand Up For Your Love!

When I realize I've made a mistake and I've changed my actions to stop making that same mistake, I wish that were the end of it. I think that's human nature, don't you want to do that with your mistakes? Just declare, "okay, I realize the error and have changed course, so let's just proceed without mentioning this again."

More facts emerged this week about the United States' practice of torture from late 2001 through at least 2006. The facts are ugly. But the new administration has given the world every reason to believe we are done with torture, so does it really matter anymore? Why should we expend time and energy on the past if it's truly not continuing?

I believe there are at least 2 reasons. One reason is that this was kept secret from us. The only parts that were discussed publicly were twists and shades. If the perpetrators of this torture really believed this was not torture and was within moral and legal limits, why was it secret? Some facts are now available to us. I believe we should read it, ask questions if we can, and demand to know what has been done in our names. I believe we should close our eyes and imagine the smell and sounds of the 10 by 13 cell buried under the ground. Imagine a man being picked up by his neck and slammed against the wall. What does that sounds like? Does he yell out or just grunt? See the blue of his skin as he sits naked being doused with cold water, just so he can endure more beating. Imagine the torture of waterboarding.

I struggled against the straps, trying to breathe, but it was hopeless. I thought I was going to die. I lost control of my urine. Since then I still lose control of my urine when under stress.

The facts are available. Where is the outrage? Where is the fucking outrage?!

Is it because the people we were torturing killed us and would like to kill more of us? Is that what makes torture okay? Thoughts like that are exactly why we need facts. It is far too easy for us to justify this outrage when we sit comfortably in home and office, far away from the smells and sounds and blood. It's not us or ours being tortured and it may be us or ours that the torture "saves." Yes, it's hard to declare that you will live without the "benefits" of torture, that you believe the better choice is a life of love.

Every day I have to find the courage
To walk out into the street
With arms out

Another very important reason that we need to find out the facts behind what happened is that this reprieve of torture must withstand the forces that brought about the torture in the first place. I don't know whether you call it irony or ghastly justice, but in the same Sunday New York Times that detailed some of the torture, former Vice President Cheney claimed that the recent decisions to stop violating the US Constitution and international law (not to mention basic human rights) "will, in fact, raise the risk to the American people of another attack." The absolute gall of this position exasperates me. Once again, without proof, Cheney makes the argument that the best way to protect Americans is to violate the Constitution and international law. And even if it were true that torture could prevent attacks (and there is a body of evidence that torture, in fact, does NOT deliver helpful information), fear is again being used to try to convince us that torturing another human being is our best choice. Fear, if we let it, will drive us to fight evil with evil.

I, for one, want to come out from hiding in fear under my bed and stand up against this evil.

"Waltz With Bashir"

"Thou shalt not be a victim. Thou shalt not be a perpetrator. Above all, thou shalt not be a bystander."
- Holocaust Museum, Washington D.C.

This human commandment, because of its origin, develops as thick irony in the documentary movie "Waltz With Bashir." On its way to this tragic end, the movie offers a few intense views of the ravages of war. Though about an event 20 years ago, the resemblance to today's military actions is striking - and alarming. Western armies are not Blitzing London or annihilating Hiroshima, but war is also not pilotless drones and grayed-out crosshairs over inanimate objects. Every shot fired delivers and recoils agony.

"Waltz With Bashir" effectively lays out a series of events that leave us contemplating the slim moral distinctions between killing "only" a few innocent civilians, killing a child in self defense, outright ethnic cleansing and standing by doing nothing. Allusion is also made to our modern ability to completely ignore these tragedies as we move about our lives out of sight of the blood and out of earshot of the death wails.

When I saw in a preview a few months ago that the movie was animated, that seemed odd and possibly even distracting. But in performance, the animation allows the movie to flow seamlessly between interviews, memories of events and dreams. You get the view of past action without clunky reenactments and the boundaries between memories and visions are appropriately blurred. Even better, writer-director-producer Ari Folman makes use of animation to drive home his most important point in stunning fashion.

If we are never to be a victim, perpetrator or bystander, then this movie, like the real world it portrays, leaves us very little comfortable space.

The Road Refuses Strangers

A person who flees to the United States and was persecuted in their country of origin, or who has a well-founded fear of persecution if they return, can stay in the U.S. as a refugee. However, a person cannot be a refugee if they "assisted, or otherwise participated in the persecution of any person." This persecutor exception makes sense. But what if the person was "forced" to assist in the persecution of others?

Daniel Girmai Negusie was forced to work as an armed guard for four years at an Eritrean prison camp where prisoners were persecuted because of their religious beliefs. According to Daniel, part of his job was to firmly control the prisoners, to punish the prisoners, too, by exposing them to the extreme heat of the African sun. The guards would hold a stick and follow prisoners who were being forced to roll on the ground in the sun. Because it was extremely hot, prisoners would quickly get tired and feel shortness of breath and stop rolling. They were then beaten. Prisoners typically could not survive this punishment for more than two hours. Indeed, at least one prisoner died from sun exposure while Daniel stood guard. Daniel admitted that, as a guard, he prevented the prisoners from showering and forbade them from leaving their rooms for fresh air. This form of punishment was particularly severe because the prisons were built from stone and bricks with no cooling system, no ventilation, no windows, and intolerable heat. Daniel also prevented prisoner escapes, for which the punishment was forced sun exposure. And, although he never used electricity to torture prisoners, he was aware that his supervisor did.

But Daniel, who had converted to Protestantism when he was confined as a prisoner at that same camp before becoming a guard, also testified that he did not want to persecute any of the prisoners because his new religion taught him to be merciful. Thus, at times he disobeyed his orders. On one occasion, he gave water to a prisoner who was dying from sun exposure. On another occasion, he let female prisoners take showers after they had been denied that privilege for a long time. Daniel also occasionally allowed some of the prisoners to go outside during the night and during the evenings and refresh themselves in the fresh air.

After four years as a prison guard, Daniel deserted his post and hid in a container, which was loaded on board a ship heading to the U.S. The container arrived in the U.S. with Daniel inside on December 20, 2004.

Should Daniel get asylum in the U.S.?