I remember going on leave from right outside Sadr City in 2008ish to a Midwest Walmart a few days later.
A kid there was throwing a tantrum in the isle about his mom not picking the right color toy off the self for him.
It was incredibly jarring for me. At that time events in my life were extremely visceral. If I ate a time or two that day, it was a good day. If I didn't get shot at that day it was a great day. If I didn't get blown up by an IED or RPG, it was an incredible day.
I was eating breakfast one morning and a wild dog had drug the amputated arm from a surgery over from the incinerator that was currently broken, and decided to eat it next to me. The arm still had part of the camouflaged sleeve on it.
The idea of being upset over the color toy your mother was buying you was the most insane thing to me.
Perspective. I guess that Reddit video mentioned above doesn’t seem so graphic after reading your comment.
I try to rationalize it all by knowing that we, especially westerners, largely live in this seemingly safe facade we like to call “our lives”.
But then, behind the curtain, the raw machinations of life happen to keep the facade going.
The facade is nice. It tricks almost everyone into pacification and thus be less of a threat to us.
On the other hand, the machinations behind the curtain keep churning along. We find it horrifying, but it’s just how things really work underneath the veneer.
The facade is kept up by violence, or the threat thereof. You can’t resist following the facade’s rules (eg. laws and in many cases, human norms) without ultimately being the subject of violence, be it from the state or an angry mob.
A kid there was throwing a tantrum in the isle about his mom not picking the right color toy off the self for him.
It was incredibly jarring for me. At that time events in my life were extremely visceral. If I ate a time or two that day, it was a good day. If I didn't get shot at that day it was a great day. If I didn't get blown up by an IED or RPG, it was an incredible day.
I was eating breakfast one morning and a wild dog had drug the amputated arm from a surgery over from the incinerator that was currently broken, and decided to eat it next to me. The arm still had part of the camouflaged sleeve on it.
The idea of being upset over the color toy your mother was buying you was the most insane thing to me.