The Report of Misery Must Be Full

 

God smote Sodom and Gomorrah because their injustices were so deep, so awful, that "the report of misery had been filled". It was time to pay the piper. St. John Chrysostom said that Sodom and Gomorrah was so evil that all God had to do was just stop telling the earth to not destroy them. The Golden Legend states that the earth itself will accuse us of our sins more harshly than anyone, and demand of God the justice long withheld.

I'm not on the ground in Afghanistan, nor have I been in any real battle. I've never been. I never will be, God willing. I am your typical government employee. I sit at a desk, doing tech support for the U.S. military. When COVID hit I had to make sure that first responders had VPN accounts, so they could get into our federal system. I've also been called to help out with tech failures in national emergencies and warzones. I do not say this to boast. Where I sit allows me to see these problems from a more organizational standpoint, is all. When you, the average reader, hear about a hurricane you say "That's awful!" As well you should, for the record.

When I hear about a hurricane I pray to God that everyone's cellphones are working, because if they're not a lot of people can die needlessly.

If we didn't troubleshoot properly and someone dies was it the hurricane that killed those people, or operational incompetence? Can you blame the mugger for actually killing someone, if you didn't do anything to actually help the victim? I mean, obviously the mugger is at fault for wanting to hurt that person in the first place and attempting it, but actually stopping him from accomplishing his goal is a different moral question.

I ask because, in the waning days of the "evacuation" of Afghanistan, I received a call. One of the people who was handling the evacuation of Afghanis who had helped U.S. forces was having technical issues. He was completely  dead in the water. I wish I could have told you that I helped him. God, I wanted to.

But I couldn't. Not wouldn't, because there's a lot of times when I "can't" do something, and what I actually mean is that I shouldn't do something.

No, folks I genuinely couldn't do anything. This would have been a situation where I gladly would have cheated our Godforsaken bureaucracy if I could. There are people who literally would die if this guy couldn't get access to his systems. So I did what I could. I brought folks on to consult. I checked. Quadruple checked. Asked questions I'd normally feel like an idiot for asking, all to avoid what I knew to be the truth: it wasn't enough. A half hour later I was explaining to him why I was helpless. It went along the lines of "The DoD isn't a monolithic entity and the stuff you're trying to access I have no way of accessing. At all. I have no idea who may actually be able to help you, but here are my best guesses. Try these folks."

Turns out he'd been to a few of those folks already. They'd sent him our way. I have no idea why, beyond the obvious incompetence and immunity to reason and logic that pervade most government employees.

He then begged for help. Actually begged. People were dying because he couldn't do his work. But I could do nothing. I tried, tried, tried, tried tried tried tried tried to communicate there was no cheat, no workaround, nothing I had in my toolbox to address his problem.

I finally got him to believe me. Government does that to you; it makes you a cynic of the truth, gets you used to lies and falsehoods and doublespeak.  It took me a hot minute to break through, and by that point I was close to tears. That may have been what did it: my voice, choked with sobs. I was at the end of my rope. And he finally knew it.

He thanked me for my time, and gently told me I was more helpful and had spent more time on his issue than the nine previous people he had been forced to talk to that day, combined. One of my supervisors had given him an idea he was going to try. He thanked us for our time and hung up.

I walked out of that call choking back tears. When I drove home the floodgates opened and I sobbed all the way home. And then entered a world totally apathetic. Folks were arguing about the Texas abortion bill, mask mandates, and more. All of it was chosen by them. They had the luxury to ignore Afghanistan. Their powerlessness didn't lead to the butchering, rape, and indoctrination of a people. They could wring their hands dramatically at the causes fed to them by our soft totalitarian society. Nothing's on the line, not really. No actual choice is present. You may think you know what helplessness feels like. What it feels like to watch helplessly as the innocent suffer.

But do you?

Have you faced a moment where your inability (not apathy, inability!) to act leads to unspeakable tragedy?

I now have. God knows how many didn't make it because of that wasted call to me. It burns in my gut. I wake up in the middle of the night and wonder about the people I couldn't help. I can't help but remember these Afghanis in my happiest moments with my family, in my dreams, when I eat, when I sit down to type on this blog, when I'm playing games, when I shit, when I argue with my wife, when I listen to music, etc etc etc etc ETCETERA. The light my family and friends give me is fuel to this fire; because of the goodness shown to me I can never forget. The happier I become the more I must remember.

When I ask the next question, do not think I ask it happily. I am a citizen of the United States, this will always be my country. I once swore an oath to defend the United States. I consider that oath to be eternally binding, even if I am released from it. I will always be American, even if I fly to the ends of the earth.

So if you take the next question as treasonous that's your own idiocy. Probably should look into that problem.

How long, Lord? 

How long until you smite the sinners from the land? Which I just so happen to be a part of? And belong to?

How long?