Busy week. Travel for work. Couldn’t get this done until tonight.
Syria has fallen fully into horror. The regime has been continuously bombing the opposition in Homs, ambivalent to age or innocence. It’s unsafe for aid workers to even enter the zone. But, the truth is that no one knows of what the opposition is precisely composed. As with the entire Arab Spring, the “good guys” still remain a kind of box of chocolates, to quote a philosopher’s mother.
This week at least two Western journalists, fatally committed to the story after almost all others had left, were killed, including Marie Colvin.
In one of her last blog posts, she presciently observed, “Reports of my survival may be exaggerated.”
But, isn’t that true of most atrocity we can’t personally touch? Whatever our view of the devastating Syrian tragedy, it is most certainly only a peephole version that tends to exaggerate the wellbeing of its victims. Because, the terror is almost certainly much, much worse.
300 years ago they didn’t really have to deal with this kind of bifurcated reality. You had no sense of pain a half a globe away. How do we buy Kapla blocks and go to theatre in the shadow of such suffering. It’s a strange compartmentalization we exercise. As, I’ve mentioned before, probably to our own benefit. The alternative is just debilitating and impotent empathy. Or, maybe action.
Oh, wait, I have Knicks/Heat on DVR? Super awesome.
Performed by ipoetlaureate. Music produced by djcluich.
Today’s song blog here:Exaggerated