The nugget. (Sisters, Or.) 1994-current, September 02, 2020, Page 14, Image 14

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    14 
Wednesday, September 2, 2020 The Nugget Newspaper, Sisters, Oregon
In the
PINES
By T. Lee Brown
The heart
opens
A man was murdered. His 
name was Aaron Danielson, 
but  he  also  went  by  the 
name  Jay  Bishop.  From 
what  we  know  as  I  write 
this, he was from Vancouver, 
Washington,  and  belonged 
to the group Patriot Prayer. 
He had a bright, warm smile, 
a  smile  his  loved  ones  will 
never see again.
I  don9t  know  much  else 
about  Aaron-Jay,  except 
that  he  was  shot  and  killed 
in Portland this weekend. I 
learned  about  the  incident 
from a Twitter post with cell 
phone  video,  posted  by  a 
controversial, conservative-
leaning  magazine  editor. 
He specified that the shoot-
ing  didn9t  <appear  to  be 
related to the ongoing Antifa 
protest.= 
Conservative  media  has 
since exploded with accusa-
tions  that  this  was  an  anti-
Trump hit job. An unhinged 
Antifa  protester  has  been 
named  as  a  potential  sus-
pect.  As  the  social  media 
melée unfolds, as thousands 
of  bot-generated  echo  sites 
disguised  as  news  media 
amplify  the  language  of 
hate  around  this  incident,  I 
find it hard to draw myself 
away from the conflict and 
suspense.
It  is  hard  to  step  away 
long  enough  to  feel  grief, 
to  feel  the  true  sorrow  that 
comes  with  sympathy,  to 
process the pain we can feel 
when contemplating a mys-
tifying,  pointless  loss  of 
human  life.  Sometimes  our 
courage wobbles. Fear keeps 
us focused elsewhere. 
If we feel something real 
and painful, it may threaten 
our  sense  of  comfort  and 
security.  To  feel  truly  and 
deeply, to allow ourselves to 
flow with sympathy, empa-
thy,  grief,  and  love  4  this 
kind of thing could wrench 
us out of our bubble.
If  sufficiently  strong,  it 
could  cause  us  to  question 
our group9s way of thinking. 
What then? If our inner life 
doesn9t match up to that of 
our friends, family, church, 
news  media,  or  political 
party 4 what then?
So we read and watch the 
news.  We  focus  on  details 
and  factoids:  How  many 
pints of blood pooled around 
the  victim9s  body  after  he 
was shot? What kind of skirt 
was  she  wearing  when  she 
was assaulted? Did the plane 
fly  into  the  building  from 
the south, or was it more of 
a south-southeasterly flight?
We  focus  on  the  idea  of 
justice  and  perhaps  fanta-
size about its second cousin, 
revenge.  Assessing  blame 
and condemnation, flinging 
self-righteous  indignation 
at the presumed guilty: this 
is  all  far  easier  than  sitting 
with  the  bleak,  heartrend-
ing knowledge that a fellow 
human  being  was  killed. 
That fellow Northwesterners 
have  lost  their  friend,  their 
son, their relative, and will 
never get him back in Earthly 
GIFT CARDS are a
great way to say
THANK YOU!
form. That murder and war 
are  spun  into  humanity9s 
fibers,  the  warp  and  woof 
of our history and tempera-
ment. That we, too, will die 
in our time.
The  ongoing  narrative, 
the alleged story around the 
tragedy,  provides  a  grand 
distraction  from  real  pain 
and  loss.  Some  narratives 
are specifically designed to 
manipulate what the public 
feels,  what  it  buys,  who  it 
votes for. Others are home-
grown  affairs:  speculations 
that fit a person9s worldview, 
musings  on  the  political 
ramifications of the tragedy 
at hand.
C o n s p i r a c y   t h e o r i e s 
emerge.  Some  explore 
important avenues of truth: 
was  Lee  Harvey  Oswald 
really a lone gunman? Could 
the CIA be dealing cocaine 
and shuttling illegal arms to 
Central America  under  the 
benevolent watch of Ronald 
Reagan  and  Oliver  North? 
Some  stories  that  sound 
impossible  turn  out  to  be 
true.
Given the history of infil-
trators  in  American  pro-
test movements, from early 
union  organizers  to  civil 
rights  and  anti-Vietnam 
War demonstrators, was the 
shooter incited by an Antifa 
infiltrator? Was the shooter 
himself an Antifa infiltrator? 
Was it a cruel assassination 
ordered by power players in 
DC, to rile up the base at the 
expense of an actual, every-
day  Trump  supporter?  Or 
was  the  shooter  just  a  lone 
lunatic  who  imagined  his 
heinous act would be seen as 
heroic?
It was not heroic. It was 
stupid, evil, sad, and wrong 
4 as human beings so often 
are.
Some  conspiracy  talk 
undermines  our  attempts 
to trust each other or reach
consensus  on  any  topic.  If 
we  can  just  focus  on  how 
Hillary  and  Q  are  traffick-
ing  children  in  the  nonex-
istent  basement  of  a  pizza 
parlor, maybe we can avoid 
our pain. If we can obsess on 
Antifa and cell-phone foot-
age,  we  can  avoid  delving 
into our own dark side, the 
shadow  side  every  person 
carries with us 4 every soci-
ety, too.
Sufficiently  distracted, 
we avoid the opening of the 
heart that accompanies true 
grief.  If  we  do  not  cry,  we 
cannot  share  the  profound 
human experience of crying 
together. 
I  am  crying  today.  I 
mourn  the  loss  of  Aaron 
<Jay= Danielson. I cry over 
the lack of decency, civility, 
justice, and courage evident 
across party lines. I cry over 
my  own  wrongdoings  and 
shortcomings. As I weep, my 
heart opens. And there, glim-
mering, I find hope.
There’s something special
about gathering around a
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pits to choose from!
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