GOODBYE SADDAM

A few days ago I found this picture I took last May in the main room in one of Saddam’s palaces. For some reason when I saw the image I pictured Saddam standing silent and deep in thought staring out over his swimming pool across the Tigris River. I had heard this was one of his favorite palaces—one where he often spent his weekends.

As much as I try to imagine what Saddam might have been thinking while standing in his living room, I really can come up with no idea at all that might be close to the truth.

I think of the tremendous evil he was capable of. And I try to think of what might have caused it—tremendous unhappiness, tremendous discontent, a tremendous feeling of inferiority?

And then I think, maybe I should just let these thoughts go. I’ve thought enough about Saddam Hussein. It’s time to give up the ghost of Saddam; to let the sad man live his life, such as it is.