IT'S ON . . .

Some thoughts on our "just" move to disarm Saddam:

1. Dan Rather provokes inappropriate laughter from me.

2. There is something fascinatingly surreal about watching war on television. I wonder about the reporters, camera-people, crew remaining in Iraq for the sake of the story and the photo. I worry about where they are sleeping, eating, hiding. I preserve hope for the unwritten but generally universally accepted rule about leaving journalists untouched. I am curious about my own sense of detachment, seeing anti-aircraft fire and explosions on the screen, but feeling secure nonetheless knowing that it's all thousands of miles away from me and mine. I chuckle at how video-gamish it all appears. I marvel at a modern technology that allows me to watch history unfold, then switch to the Food Network when it all gets to be too much to handle.

3. John Norris (of MTV) provided the best pre-war war coverage I've seen yet (aside from crazy-but-lovable Dan Rather and his little maps): he was honest about being scared and confused, recognized the same in his viewers, and provided an outlet for viewers to ask questions and respond and/or vent. Good on you, John.

4. Iraqi-Americans don't have it so easy right now. Most of them are refugees from the 1960s, seeking freedom from Saddam's oppression (and violence), liberty, opportunity, democracy and education in the United States. Now, they are being questioned by the FBI, just for being who they are. Do they feel betrayed? Do they feel they want to cooperate? Are they scared? Are they in touch with their family back home? What is the extent of the backlash they are experiencing from their neighbors? Are they afraid to go outside and participate in everyday life? Do people stare at them with suspicion and animosity in their eyes? And a question that particularly hits home: if/when this war in Iraq ends, and if/when the U.S. goes after North Korea, will I, my family, my Korean-American friends and compatriots have to grapple with the same concerns, fears and worries? Will other Americans care to ask about my ideologies before they decide to hate me or attack me or blame me? Will they care to ask my Chinese or Japanese-American friends if they are North Korean sympathizers or not before doing the same to them? Will I slowly become a stranger in the only country that is home to me, as many Iraqi-Americans are feeling now? That would suck a lot.

5. The still shots of Baghdad apartment and office buildings are eerie and cause chills to run up and down my spine. Are there people in there? What are they doing? How old are they? Who are they rooting for? How many are "innocent"? Are they preparing to die? If a missile hits their building, how many of them will survive? Have they blacked out their windows, like the British during WWII? How are mothers soothing their crying babies? How are parents convincing their children, through the shriek and thud of falling bombs, that Saddam will prevail, or that Americans will come and liberate them and they will be free? Are their hearts being hardened towards the U.S., or are they waiting with bated breath for democracy? How will they implement democracy when they don't know the first thing about it? How the heck will a crushed city be rebuilt? Where are the guarantees that democracy will even last, for them, for us, for anyone?

6. So, if everyone is concentrating on the situation out there, who's concentrating on what might -- God forbid -- happen here?

7. I'm a little inappropriately entertained by the idea of our missiles shooting down their missiles mid-air. Again, with the video-game reference. And it's just cool that we can intercept their attacks on us. Makes me want to dance a jig and scornfully say "HAH! You suck."

8. I wish I was back in high school, during Iraq, Pt. 1, when I didn't know any better, and the only things I worried about were SAT scores, finding a prom dress, and getting my parents to let me stay out past midnight . . .