Friday is the holy day for Muslims, Saturday for Jews, Sunday for Christians – hence, on these days, devout believers supposedly lay down their arms and pray to their god for help and guidance in the struggle against the infidel. A simple matter, given that all days of the week and the year are days of war, which is the father of gods and people alike. Of course, war also has its parents, its seedbeds and nurses. But in each incarnation of war, we are presented with different parents so that its real sowers and midwives can remain mutely in the half dark. No war, we all know, has ever been listed under its real name in history’s register. And they’ve all been just and holy for all the parties in conflict. The current, asymmetrical war, which has paralyzed a horrified humanity, and cast a long shadow on man’s present and future, did not start on September 11, 2001, as imagined in our scenarios. And it will not end with the arrest or killing of the religious extremist and cold-blooded arch-terrorist Osama bin Laden, for none of the parties involved would like to see it end prematurely, before the Asian – if not the world – map is redrawn. So many allies – some willingly in the alliance, others forced and dragged into it – noble or aspiring plunderers, democrats and totalitarians alike, will all probably need something more tangible than the crown of justice. … Ninety-three minutes into play, David Beckham scored the equalizing goal against Greece, prompting British Prime Minister Tony Blair to punch his car roof in joy. The story, which instantly spread through the global marketplace, wants to say that even adult men become children when engaged with simple, ordinary things. The vexing question is whether those who are worshiped as great figures across the world continue to act like thoughtless and impulsive youngsters even when dealing with significant and serious issues.