Held Hostage and Violated, with Much Worse to Come

Much of the West has not had an existential crisis in decades. No aerial bombardments, being herded into concentration camps, dying of starvation, enduring a psychotic dictator or escaping one's homeland on an unseaworthy boat, etc. Politics for them has been no more grave than voting, haranguing one's "enemies" online or protesting for an hour, often in a cute costume or even naked, then it's time for cappuccino or mojito.

To hide their gulag or killing field envy, many have become stridently militant, but only image wise, so they can post cool pics on FaceBook, Twitter or Instagram. Nothing is risked. Others slake this deficit with video games or Hollywood movies, where carnage as spectacle has become a staple.

Suddenly, though, many realize they've been shoved into a strange, hostile vehicle and taken for a ride to an unknown location, with their faces pressed to the floor. Most still insist it's not that absurd, much less horrifying, with normality returning in any case, and even if it isn't, the new normality isn't much of an inconvenience.

Still more curious, many who expect the worst can't wait for it to happen, such is their ennui and self-hatred, for anything is better than their meaningless life.

Seventeen years after his release, Keenan returned to Beirut. "I couldn't say I was happy and excited to be back"it was far more than that. I was falling in love," and understandably so. It was where Keenan had found the most meaning.

Unlike Keenan, we may not have a chance to tell our own stories, no matter how badly.

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