History

I've had this odd urge to cry floating around the back of my head for the past few days, and suddenly the reason why hit me.

When I was a child - until I was around 15/16 in fact, I wanted to be an archeologist. I was fascinated and amazed by how much what people leave behind speaks to the kind of society they lived in. I loved the voyeuristic feeling of peeking into want most people would never see or understand. I treasured the feeling of lifting something from the sand that appeared to be a dirty rock, and having it reveled to be a brightly colored piece of pottery.

So - when I started seeing reports that the museuems and libraries in Bagdhad and other areas of Iraq had been looted, and in some cases burnt to the ground - I hurt! The loss of those precious, utterly irreplace TREASURES reverberates in me in a way that I haven't even put together words to explain. From the clay cuniforms to the libraries of Islamic Law - it's gone. And what a waste it is - burnt to a crisp or broken because of ignorance, an utter lack of respect, and complete negligence on the part of the 'liberating' forces.

I want to cry - but the tears won't well up. I've not yet been able to force myself to read an entire article listing what they believe was destroyed - but I'm horrified at the thought of ANY of it being destroyed.

So...I'm disappointed in humanity today, even though, using history as a guide - I should have expected no better.

I still want to cry.