Perspective
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Perspective The view from the air belongs to no one. Those silences and fractious parklands constantly retreat from one another like ordinary people desperate for privacy. The view from the air is of wounded lions, of an intimacy God will not share, the grilles and trellises of every death uncommunicated in a big country. Happiness divides us, sometimes in God's name, sometimes in the name of History. I could be happy now. From my seat in the airplane I could imagine the full enclosures of people contented and with no needs beyond private moments walking the fenceline before joining the others in the night enclosure that is the final shape of countries. I could be happy tomorrow. I could see myself out in the dark all night and in the morning standing upright beyond the fenceline, seeing for myself the land has no shape and is spotted with lions dying ignorant of the airplanes overhead. I would be happy because of the justice that every death belongs to lions and has no country. 18 The grilles and trellises of the view from the air, windows cut into a hundred pictures, ladders of huge flowers disappearing, make me think there is no such thing as the world. The wisdom of God kills lions. The undirected freedoms of History kill lions. And there is a happiness in me that cannot live on the ground or save my country. 19 ...



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