The last convoy transporting U.S. soldiers left Iraq this morning. As I perused the news headlines, this story was third on a major news outlet, which warrants a whole essay in itself, but some other time. I reflected on what the Iraq War’s end means both to me personally and in a larger sense.

I’m not able to come up with much. It feels momentous, because the Iraq War defined a major part of the first decade in this century. Countless articles, documentaries, political sound bites, and debates ran in the background everyday for eight years. A particularly formative and influential eight years of my youth. Now it is over. But it doesn’t feel over.

We did not have concrete victory conditions for this war, so it is difficult for me to gauge. No Dark Crystal to heal nor ring to throw in a volcano. No classic and definitive moment of achievement. Media coverage has waned over the last year or two, and I as an average citizen have little grasp on the situation in Iraq. Is it stable? Can it stand on its own or will the Iraqi government quickly become a thorn in the side of the U.S.? I’m relatively uninformed, and I have to assume the people in charge have considered many options.

We left one area, but tensions seem just as high because we are still at war elsewhere. Afghanistan in particular, and the escalating hostility between Iran and the West. I don’t get the sense that Iraq is back up on its feet and prospering, rather there is simply not much left for us to do there. The national identity of Iraq isn’t strong enough for us to work with, and fragments are hard to put together. The suffering and confusion of that region didn’t start recently. They won’t end imminently.

Running into an election year, I’m hoping to see more of these decisive moments, cynical reasoning or not. Historians will have to sort out all of the echoes and ripples. For now, with little foresight, I will just be glad there are Americans coming home.

Traditional Christmas song added to “Winter Warmer” on the music page.

http://ruthlessantarctic.com/music/

An older song I wrote. Please excuse the audio clip-outs.

After everyone goes to bed and I allow myself to enter existential crisis, I sometimes wonder what kind of person I would have been in any other time in history.  Stories I read about past societies, and the number of ways by which it was socially acceptable to brutally ruin someone else’s day, scare the crap out of me when I place myself there.  Then I remember that I would probably be whatever I was born into, and the game is much less fun. Maybe these are just my modern sensibilities.

Up until even 20 years ago or so, if you had mentioned a major problem for future generations would be “soul crushing boredom and/or indecision paralysis,” I imagine you would receive a kick in the pants while simultaneously being handed a mop to “get your shit together.”
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