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.It's so decadent.""Hmmm.," Gabriel muses."Helms's distaste goes beyond mere inefficiency.I think he feels threatened.""How so?" I ask."Sovereignty.He thinks the U.S.should be able to do what it wants, when it wants, and on whatever terms it wants.A stronger international regime, in his view, threatens that.And yet that is precisely what we need, isn't it?""I don't think we need these incompetent and overpaid UN bureaucrats running the planet," John mumbles, sipping his drink."The point is not what exists now—this is the hollow shell of a true international regime—but rather what could be.""So, enlighten me, Gabriel," John rejoins."What could be?""We are still at an early stage in our evolution as a species.We are nationalistic, which is just another way of saying 'tribal,' and lack consciousness of suffering in other parts of the planet.We can't yet extend our sense of love beyond our immediate families and friends to the whole earth and her people.We lack empathy.""Easy does it there! You're definitely losing me now," John says."Okay.In more concrete terms: Sovereignty needs to be redefined.Predatory regimes like Taylor's exploit the concept to say that because they are a sovereign nation they can do anything they wish within their own boundaries—destroy rainforests, draft ten-year-olds into combat, hack off infants' arms to control diamond fields.Only a strong international government can ensure international human and ecological rights."Gabriel pauses, and I look over into John's mischievous eyes, his mouth hiding behind his drink.He appears ready to pounce but does not.Gabriel continues, "It's not just authoritarian leaders like Taylor who are violating basic human and ecological rights.We need to look at the other side of the coin: our bubbles in the first world."John raises an eyebrow."It's a metaphor," I jump in."We drag huge bubbles of all that we consume.OTC's timber and Colonel Bloodshed's diamonds are in our bubbles, so in a direct sense we support Taylor.""Exactly," Gabriel says."But as we become conscious of our own role in all of this, we will begin to demand a strong yet caring world government that can truly regulate cross-boundary issues like logging, weapons, and diamond trading.These issues go way beyond what sovereign nations can control on their own."John shakes his head and drains his Scotch."You know, you're right, Gabriel.There is suddenly going to be a world government based on love! Let's recite mantras together and drop some acid.""It's a long-term process," Gabriel says, "but we have to begin.I feel like a good place to start is with our inner lives, to see ourselves as loving and loved creatures with the power to realize powerful changes in our institutions.A small circle of conscious individuals around the world can make a huge difference.""I've had enough," John says, slamming down his drink."Check, please!""Maybe we should switch topics?" Liza suggests."Sure," Gabriel says, "but I wonder why John has such strong emotional reactions to this.""Because this is a load of horseshit!" exclaims John."People like Taylor are the crooks who need to be brought to their knees.We Americans with our so-called bubbles aren't the crooks! Consumption is a good thing.It fuels the economy and improves our quality of life.I only wish Africans could enjoy our standard of living someday—good highways, rationally managed forests, excellent universities, shopping malls.A kick-ass economy will really change things."John had had a few drinks before we arrived.His glasses are crooked on his face."What are you staring at? I'm trying to bring things down-to-earth! I'm tired of ivory tower intellectuals spewing crap.""I was born and raised on this coast," Gabriel said, "and I work in refugee camps.Is that the ivory tower?"CHAPTER 27FRED AND MINNIE are dead.The two guinea pigs lie in a shoebox-size coffin on the floor of my kayak.I row hard and steady as a drizzle comes down on my head.A lot has happened in the past three months since the argument between John and Gabriel in the UN restaurant.Low-level tension flared into all-out fighting along the Guinean border.It had seemed the economy could get no worse, but it did.Ciatta remained out of work and moved out of her apartment and in with an aunt to save the little money she had.Then something even graver happened: The military forcibly enlisted her twin brother, Jackolie, and took him to the front.I had seen him a few days before.He stopped by my house, where Ciatta and I were engrossed in a video.Jackolie's knee moved rapidly and his eyes were shifty as he said, "I need some money
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