My Quest for Justice in America and what I found instead:

I looked into the eyes of Anders Behring Breivik on the Internet; trying to understand. I do not think it is hate, it is something more basic and a lot more scary than hate: it is internalized over a young lifetime; rote like metaphorical muscle memory of his soul.

Little Ali came to my mind lying on an old chipped iron bed in an Iraqi hospital with his bloodied stubs for legs and arms and he told someone that he used to want to be a soldier and now he wants to be a doctor when he grows up. They learn by example. I printed his picture and carried it with me and pray for him still when I remember. His face full of an odd shaming embarrassment and helplessness and a kind of begging to be put out of his misery.

How many twisted little bodies have we created in Iraq and Afghanistan and Libya and Pakistan. How would you like to go to bed wondering what were the chances of a drone attack? How would you comfort your child each day if you lived in a village where the chances of one were real? How can our children or any children in the world grow up unaffected by this?

Collectively we are teaching them to kill and to be unaffected by killing.

We either shrivel in pain and no longer function or we harden and go to the growers market or Starbucks and buy chic shoes and eat Thai food and watch Modern Family and pretend that we are the good guys or else we form into a monster: an Anders Behring Breivik.

Where are your souls? Why isn't everyone saying NO?

The angels are all around us. We can be brave and glow with truthfulness, Divine Truth, and demand that our politicians tax the devil out of the rich now and spend that money on our children and feed the children of the world and when anyone wants to negotiate peace we can say "yes" immediately instead of arrogantly refusing and we can demand that our politicians extend an olive branch in every direction.

How can we send 40 trained killers into a compound and then be elated at the death of a fellow human dumped into the ocean? How many children did we desensitize with that one?

How can we strap someone to a table and inject them with poisons that we know will stop their beating heart; around the world we feel the cruel and unusual punishment of their anguish leading up to this bizarre horrific moment and how can we believe that this makes anything right?

How could we ever come to a low where we debate the demonic writings of the authors of the "Torture Memos" and pay one to teach in a revered university and another to sit in one of our highest courts?

How insane has our society become? Didn't anyone hold you close and love you and teach you about love? Who are you really and why aren't you saying NO?