Where is the outrage?

When Dean and I went to D.C., we visited the U.S. Holocaust Museum, which has left a lasting impression on me. The museum's creation was championed by Elie Wiesel. When we got back, I read Night, Elie Wiesel's autobiographical story about his experiences at Auschwitz (he is shown in this picture on the second bunk, 7th from the left). He lived in Hungary, and his family, like most people, failed to listen to or believe any of the warnings. At the age of 15, as a young teen studying the Jewish mysticism of Kabbalah, the Germans took over his hometown and herded all the Jews onto cattle cars. His mother and youngest sister were killed in the gas chambers within minutes of their arrival. His father survived nearly to the end of the war, finally succumbing, after a long winter forced march that broke his health, to dysentery. Wiesel's most powerful words in this book are these:

Never shall I forget that night, the first night at camp, that turned my life into one long night seven times sealed.
Never shall I forget that smoke.
Never shall I forget the small faces of the children whose bodies I saw transformed into smoke under a silent sky.
Never shall I forget those flames that consumed my faith forever.
Never shall I forget the nocturnal silence that deprived me for all eternity of the desire to live.
Never shall I forget those moments that murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams into ashes.
Never shall I forget these things, even were I condemned to live as long as God himself.
Never.

As our country is distracted by a nonsensical war, we stand virtually impotent as atrocities like Darfur and Myanmar/Burma continue before our very eyes.

I wonder, how can we act when secret torture memos, written by our own federal government, convict us of our sin? How can we possibly rid evil and injustice in the world when we brazenly create it ourselves and call it national security?

And still, I wonder, where is the outrage?