Once again, I think, peace and love are one of those inseparable benevolent duos. Like love and truth, they go hand-in-hand. It’s wonderful to read that voices within the religious community are being raised for peace. War is not the
Once again, I think, peace and love are one of those inseparable benevolent duos. Like love and truth, they go hand-in-hand. It’s wonderful to read that voices within the religious community are being raised for peace. War is not the answer — it is a cry the Quakers, my dear friends, have been hosting for years. Thank you guys.
I think most of us devout non-believers have been rooting for peace for years. We do not pray. We attempt to cajole, convince, reason our way to a peaceful solution to humankind’s considerable problems. The only question I would ask is: Why just one day? Why not try, maybe, once a month? Saturdays are good.
Instead of churches, temples, mosques and synagogues, why not parking lots at the mall? Or neighborhood centers or parks? On this holy of holiest Jewish days, rules could be broken. Stars of David banners artistically combined with Picasso’s dove of peace could be silently passed out to strangers. Now that would be a day of atonement.
You know what? You could even have a table where Christians and Jews and Muslims could stand together holding hands and praying together.
Kids could have lemonade stands for peace. Others could sell cookies or T-shirts or baseball caps or bumper stickers. Veterans for peace could hand out petitions. Old-fashioned soapbox hooters could hoot for peace.
Peaceniks could sing folk songs. Darling girls in peace patterned bikinis could wander through the crowds tossing flowers. Peaceful aromatic hot dogs could be vended. Little kids could chase around on scooters lisping, “Peace in our time.”
Overhead small planes could drop leaflets. Skywriters could write PEACE in the sky ‘til the cows came home. Flocks of doves could be set free to wing and flutter and swoop down for handfuls of scattered birdseed. White doves on the grass. At last.
Films on the subject could be shown. Lectures could be offered as to why it’s better to spend money on peaceful efforts than it is to blow guys and gals and little kids and seniors and innocents to smithereens.
The party could go on all night.
Hey, there’s money in this. And what won’t guys do for money?
On military bases, peace advocates could come out of the closet. Peacefully. Joyfully. Maybe, if they’re allowed to carry guns, these could be tossed in nets and swung from trees and posts with white dove origami dangling down.
At sea, sailors — crew and officers and captains — men and women, too, could strip down to their skivvies and swim races three times around their warships. Challenge the more belligerent to a peaceful dunking contest.
This could be such a successful human experience we’d want to do it more often. Peace parties, world round, would be the rage. An American innovation. Wow. We’d really have something to “sell” to the world. Peaceful capitalism at its best.
And if the nasty old warmongers don’t like it, they can stay home.
I want a franchise. Peace popcorn anyone?
• Bettejo Dux is a Kalaheo resident and author of “The Scam: A madcap romp through North Shore Kauai.”
