People were settled at a table.  Nothing, politically, was settled.  "But that's the best time to tawk."  A woman with a normally different role in public life assured stone faces.  She was not really paying attention to what she was doing as she started to unpack an eggcrate carton box on the seat next to her.  "What is all this?" 

     While another person began to explain how much work people on all sides had been doing as "grassroots" effort, someone entered the room.  Dipped head to speak to a world leader.  Spoke in not-English.  The wall-size TV posted the question automatically, in English.

     "Is there a terrorist in the room?" 

     Stonefaces evil-eyed each other.  "Did I call you?" The world leader asked. 

     "We may need you to see something."  The leader jumped up.  "You all come too." 

     The woman, (i)out of her element because nothing funny here(i), was reading testimonials of people who lived locally.  "I'll stay right here," she chose.

     Downstairs was a television that got news and shows.  A person was explaining a vote to deem some organizations and its members "terrorists".  People spoke to each other in many languages.  Some were ushered out by armed people.  "Maybe that's our space problem," one man said to another.  "We have a space problem?" The other asked and swirled the liquor in his glass.  "Air travel grounded has been great for my sex life," he said matter-of-factly and drained his glass.

     Popping the pimple versus shaking the jello. 

     Others listening made disgusted faces.  "It's routine for us," a military person working to secure contractual work explained to a more civilian-type president.  "You might could help me?"  The professional nodded.  People kept hands tucked into armpits.  It seemed that deals were being made on paperwork in trashcans and in regards other topics off the table.  

     "We call that having a leak," another person explained. 

     Sometimes government functunaries get thrown together in response to attack.  Sometimes they can work together and sometimes they cannot.  A "third party" is sometimes necessary to break gridlock or stalemate.  The mediators had come from around the world and like Olympiads were in rounds of practice and never-ending debate.  They did not have a wall of monitors and buttons to commandeer.  And no chains of command to coordinate.  They were there as people to guide discussions. 

     It wasn't a government lockdown.  And it wasn't a tyranical move.  But in the laps between war and peace process, there were chunks of time spent being targeted and with weapons trained on any possible survivor. 

     Not really a choice about having some sort of security.  Some sort of military action.  Some sort of realistic to the idealism of co-existence.  

     And they all wanted to understand the marvel of America.  

"Why does it work for them?" A world leader asked his closest people to ask, to learn. 

     "What is it about the West that..."  Long discussions under the strain of people being shot at and weapons in space being focused on possible solution to total destruction. 

Walking back from edges

     Walking back from edges sometimes people are in a stupified state.  It's spiritual no matter a person's religion or politics.  It can  also be a time of well, that was a hard lesson.  

     Standing on the edge of a crater where once a building stood housing families and other humanity...even a button pusher had to admit...that's one kind of power.  That one had been driven to the edge of sanity by "the job".  Military might is made up of a lot of aspects of nation-function.  Oftentimes on the way to autonomous warfare, we've been witness to each other's last shred of soul. 

     In the early to mid-1990's us modern people seemed to be on a plateau of progress and it often came to a clash of brute force v. ethical behavior.  In the West's talking circles we generally agreed to disagree about a lot of things.  And the battles often came down to kill or be killed.  Use technology to further/better survival or be destructive.  It was a defining moment for world leaders to realize that's the choice. 

     And standing beside such a crater proved it in a realistic way such as to cut through the fog of war and rationalize strategy to defend but not be the destroyer.  World's full of destruction and that can be attached to scientific, political, religious language.  To be a great nation or a great person is to defy just being the destroyer.

     We pulled up to the house.  "It's fifth generation," he smiled though there was a flicker of not sure if I'm proud or sad 'bout that.  It looked to be in need of some paint and there were things poking out of patches of tall, tall grass.  "It's home, right?!" 

     "Zactly."  He tried to open the car door as he assured, "Be right back."  He pushed but it wouldn't open.  A large kid outside let him try four or five times before he popped up and mouthed, "She's pissed." And he pointed at him.  He crossed his arms then undid them and tried to push the door open again. 

     A lady coming from the house had him telling me Back up, back up, back up.  The large kid moved behind the car as the lady opened the door.  She bent down and stuck her face in the car and smelled the air.  "White.  And smokes cigarettes.  Trashy."  My mouth opened in shock at the so deemed.  "Maw!" 

     "We're NOT," the words flew out.  He got out and she smacked him in the face.  He put his arms sort of around her in a hug and moved her out of the way.  "I've come for a can of corn," he announced.

     "You sneaking around." She crossed her arms and said.  He went inside and we all stayed frozen in place.  He came back out.  "Now we'll catch sumpin'," he declared as he got back in with the can of corn.  "Just go," he said.  I looked in the rear view at the kid with his butt up against the hatchback.  He put the corn on the floor and reached over and honked the horn.  Kid moved.  He waved at the two of them as I slowly backed up.

     On the creek after baiting with the corn and sinking lines he said, "I am sneaking around 'bout something." I blushed.  He smiled.  "I joined the National Guard."  

     "Oh!" I reeled in and recast.  "That's a secret?" 

The ongoing work...

     For us Americans regardless of "status" the ongoing work is taking care of loved ones and supporting local businesses.  Always.  Political tensions are a layer like an onion skin on the foundation of Republic. 

     And be in touch with the Congress people perpetuating "shut down" because we don't want to be both rallying to our defenses and thwarting ourselves.

     It's ongoing work.

     A thorough and comprehensible backstory on what's going on with the U.S. and Venzuela.

     Gives us more to think about regarding links between Communism and resources!

    World thinkers are also pondering the notion of "empathy" today too.

Battle-tested to transactional

     "We weren't running," some jetted away unified on message.  "And we're not chasing you," a media rep said.  The airport lounge was dull and the sounds were absorbed into the place.  More talk for the saturated sponge. 

     What was clear to everyone was that every nation was armed to the teeth and monies flowing because of ongoing war were allowing the beast of war to keep building itself. 

     "Talks" could only happen commeasurate to accounting. 

     "We can't make that promise," world leaders were talking about nation's stands as they would talk about being at home.  Neighbor kid wants to borrow the ladder.  Some leaders were like...We're not even home yet.  So?  So, I don't even know if the ladder is where I left it.  And who is the kid?

     A wife of one diplomat cautiously shared a cranberry muffin with the wife of another diplomat.  "That way we can keep our mouths full and talk less." 

     "That's good," a President remarked, "Keep listening." 

     Paragraph after paragraph was moved from the TO BE DONE to the COMPLETED task pile.