Just after I started my morning meditation, I saw a scene from an American jail such as Abu Ghraib or Guantanamo. A huge, beefy, fat, and cross-legged guard in army fatigues was waddling down a long, wide, and poorly lit corridor. He was moving at top speed, but his bulk slowed him down. “Abdel,” he yelled at the top of his voice, “I’m coming, Abdel!” When he burst into one of the cells, he pulled out a knife, cut off the left ear of a dark, scrawny prisoner, and shoved it into his mouth. “Chew, Abdel, chew and swallow, or I’ll have to feed you the other one, too!” Even after the scene faded away, the memory of the guard waddling down the corridor returned a few more times, as did the yelling: “Abdel, Abdel!”