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Following the events of Tuesday the eleventh, I've seen lots of friends worrying to the point of ineffectiveness and panic; I've heard coworkers raging; I've heard of people acting out in completely useless ways, like egging the car of a friend of mine because she is Afghan-American; I've seen the gun control debate come up yet again in several venues where it's been declared permanently off-topic; I've seen people in a daze because they've essentially lost their innocence.
I think that's really what's happening here. People are losing their innocence. America, as a country, is losing its innocence in a sense as well.
I am reminded of a very tasteless, but actually somewhat apt, "potential headline" someone forwarded to me in e-mail. It read: AMERICA IS TARGET OF TERRORIST ATTACK. 'JOIN THE F*CKING CLUB,' SAYS REST OF WORLD.
(I'm glad the rest of the world didn't actually say that, at least not right away. We wouldn't have understood. And it is tasteless.)
I am saddened, but not enraged. I grieve for those who mourn, but I am not much more afraid than I was. Why is this?
1. First and foremost: I haven't been to ground zero, nor have I lost a friend or a loved one.
2. Still a big effect, and the point of this entry: I never did think the world was a nice place.
Some people have advocated turning off the news, for folks who are just too overwhelmed. Oddly enough I can watch the news now. Turning off the news was a great approach for me up until Tuesday the eleventh. Not only have I never seen the world as a decent place, but in fact, in order for me to be able to recognize that the world was in fact a sufficiently decent place in my immediate vicinity, the reminders that it sucked rocks elsewhere were too detrimental and got removed! But now I am getting reminded that it sucks rocks everywhere, and in a strange and weird way, I am almost reassured: I am not the insane one. It all makes sense again. I can watch the news now.
(I better watch myself around others, though. I'm a bit too detached and rational in the face of their grief and rage.)
I don't know whether or not to think it's sad that the reason I am not hit very hard emotionally by this is that the fact that bad sh*t happens was always a bone-deep knowledge for me. I think I'll suspend judgment on whether it's sad, and simply remark that it seems to be the case. Neither bad nor good, it simply is.
(Wonder how I could turn it to constructive use somewhere.)
I think that's really what's happening here. People are losing their innocence. America, as a country, is losing its innocence in a sense as well.
I am reminded of a very tasteless, but actually somewhat apt, "potential headline" someone forwarded to me in e-mail. It read: AMERICA IS TARGET OF TERRORIST ATTACK. 'JOIN THE F*CKING CLUB,' SAYS REST OF WORLD.
(I'm glad the rest of the world didn't actually say that, at least not right away. We wouldn't have understood. And it is tasteless.)
I am saddened, but not enraged. I grieve for those who mourn, but I am not much more afraid than I was. Why is this?
1. First and foremost: I haven't been to ground zero, nor have I lost a friend or a loved one.
2. Still a big effect, and the point of this entry: I never did think the world was a nice place.
Some people have advocated turning off the news, for folks who are just too overwhelmed. Oddly enough I can watch the news now. Turning off the news was a great approach for me up until Tuesday the eleventh. Not only have I never seen the world as a decent place, but in fact, in order for me to be able to recognize that the world was in fact a sufficiently decent place in my immediate vicinity, the reminders that it sucked rocks elsewhere were too detrimental and got removed! But now I am getting reminded that it sucks rocks everywhere, and in a strange and weird way, I am almost reassured: I am not the insane one. It all makes sense again. I can watch the news now.
(I better watch myself around others, though. I'm a bit too detached and rational in the face of their grief and rage.)
I don't know whether or not to think it's sad that the reason I am not hit very hard emotionally by this is that the fact that bad sh*t happens was always a bone-deep knowledge for me. I think I'll suspend judgment on whether it's sad, and simply remark that it seems to be the case. Neither bad nor good, it simply is.
(Wonder how I could turn it to constructive use somewhere.)
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