Little Libyan Superman

This week I was reading an article about a downed United States F-15 fighter jet (approx. cost 150 million dollars) somewhere in the sovereign nation of Libya. You might have knowledge about the news, and the American military's account that it's falling was due to "mechanical failure" rather than a result of enemy suppression. A ask myself why all briefings from the top brass of our country always contest loss of personnel or equipment is either a result of mechanical failure, friendly fire, or kamikaze style religious patsies? But if I am honest with myself, I know the answer. It is all explained in the ancient classic book by Sun Tzu titled "The Art of War". One of his main points towards the beginning clearly explains the "Art of Deception". To be truthful from a leaders standpoint, such info could possibly crush troop morale, and jeopardize the support of citizens back home. As if Libyan anti-aircraft guns and S.A.M.S (Surface to Air Missiles) shoot water ballons, and their heat seeking projectiles are made of Play-Doe.

This photo I stare at with intense, intrigue, and compassion. I see the fresh green landscape and what appears to be a suburban housing development similar to a county that you and I currently hold residency in. I see the father of children wearing American made Levi's holding his cell phone. I wonder if he has service still? Maybe he has it with him just to document history with a "jpeg" file? Is his wife back at home filled with anxiety because her Little Libyan Superman is at ground zero of the incident.

Then comes the cute three year old boy, mouth open, wearing camouflage dungrees (the irony), and the Libyan flag around his neck. It stirs emotions inside of me. Mostly compassion for the Little Libyan Superman's current predicament. He is at that age when all external stimuli is tasted, digested, and absorbed into the psyche. The destruction, sounds of gunfire, and supersonic jets passing over head is absorbed. The conversations his dad is having with the locals and the tones at which he expresses himself the boy understands. The subliminal tattoo that will chisel his character for years to come. It reminds me when I had the opportunity to raise my own son. Watching every move I made, words I spoke, songs I listened to in his presence, and filtering of the shows on television we would watch. The Little Libyan Superman's age is so fragile, so innocent.

Governments and wars don't care about such an impact. Egos have taken control, and self-centered goals and material domination becomes the un-natural beast! I hope when he becomes a man he will be able to channel such experiences from the past to have a positive effect on his future. That is if another "mechanical failure" doesn't hit his home first. Thoughts of you Little Superman.


Author: C. Gonzales