Election 2008

       It is a little after 10 p.m. on November 4, 2008 and me and my four roommates are quite literally swimming through 125,000 people in order to get closer to one of the biggest television screens I have ever personally seen. Quickly walking hand-in-hand though huge groups of people, I am surprised to realize that not a single person had been rude to us. A simple “excuse me” or “sorry” was all that we needed to say and we were greeted with a smile as each group stepped back to let us pass by. People were beautiful again in my eyes. The atmosphere was light and comfortable with an indescribable feeling in the air. The best way I can describe that feeling is that tingling sensation you get when the hair on your arms stands up; it was that kind of electricity.

       As soon as me and my roommates got close to the huge television screen, CNN had just added a state, making the total electoral votes 281. In a flash, CNN had on the screen “Barack Obama: President Elect 2008.” My heart stopped before I could react. Everybody all at once was cheering and joyously yelling to the heavens or at each other. I snapped out of shock and happily cried while my roommates and I started jumping up and down. I looked around and saw even more people dancing. I saw groups of people crying and overheard a woman telling her child with a sobbing voice that, “Everything is going to be alright now. Everything is going to be alright.”

       When Obama came on stage with his family, I have never seen so much unity in my life. There was such a wonderful mixture of beautiful people; babies, teenagers, middle-aged, elderly, punks, hippies, business men, students, and mothers, all cheering and all listening intently to Obama. If Obama said anything to summarize the feeling of unity, not only in the rally but all over the country, it was this: “If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.”

       I can barely write about that night because my thoughts keep going all over the place. There is so much I want to say, but there is literally no way to describe it. Aside from the beauty of the crowd, the whole event was almost dream-like because I had been watching the election coverage very closely for the past twenty-two months, and to find out a couple of weeks before the election that Obama was holding a rally at Grant Park (right across the street from my dorm) was amazing. As cliché as it sounds, I will never forget that night. November 4, 2008 was by far the happiest, most liberating night of my life. Not only because we have our first African American president, but because I saw our first glimpse of hope in such a long time.

 

“Fog of War”

       “Is this what we want for the twenty-first century?” asks former Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara after discussing that the human race needs to think more of the consequences of killing and the conflict that surrounds it. Directed by Errol Morris, “Fog of War” is a documentary not only about McNamara’s important role in both the Cold War and Vietnam, but it is also about the hard lessons that he learned about human nature. Although the film gains insight of McNamara’s point of view and the impact the Vietnam War had on the White House staff (much less the country), there is an impression that McNamara is only telling the part of the story that fits his purpose.

       When Errol Morris tries to ask McNamara questions in order to recount his actions during the Vietnam war, McNamara puts aside the questions and instead offers more advice by stating, “Never answer the question that’s been asked of you, answer the question you wished had been asked of you.” Although this might be good advice, the statement seems to be a way for him to snick around the truth. In fact, the documentary has eleven lessons of war (which were formed after McNamara looked back on his life and determined his mistakes) and the lessons serve as chapters in the film.

       After each statement of the lessons, Morris shows visual commentary that flows with the lessons and the historical story line. The commentary shows war footage and the film also has clips of actual phone conversations between McNamara and John F. Kennedy, and then Lyndon B. Johnson. The war footage and phone conversations are the most direct way in which Morris tries to show the audience the effects of the war and the decisions McNamara had to base upon those effects. The audio and visual aids does help capture the meaning of the documentary, however when Morris tries to visually show the symbolism of the destruction and devastation of the war, it comes across as weak since the destruction is a scene of falling dominoes.

       Out of all the lessons, number nine is the one that is the most attention grabbing because it states, “In order to do good, you may have to engage in evil.” McNamara may not be telling the full truth or his true actions during the Vietnam war, but he is not hiding anything in this lesson because… well, he cannot. Everybody in the country (especially those who lived through the war) knows that McNamara was the Secretary of Defense. He engaged in evil by shaping an unnecessary war, which lead to hundreds of thousands of deaths, and the only good that he did was help stop the war. McNamara explains that, “If we lost the war, we’d be prosecuted as war criminals.” Shortly then after, he makes a interesting point by asking the viewer to think about what is considered immoral in war. Overall, “Fog of War” may focus on McNamara’s career, but I believe this film is also about us as viewers in the sense that we need to think more about war and death. War may be complex, but we can try to understand.