Where realism meets fantasy...
Where anything can happen...
Where nothing really gets figured out because there are so many possibilities
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This is where you stick random tidbits of information about yourself.
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Monday, December 17, 2012
Families in Newtown are grieving the loss of their babies…their loved ones.
Meanwhile, it has become fodder for the news machine. Bold headlines and breaking news alerts capture our attention with the horror of it all and to begin the process of asking the two big questions: WHY and WHAT NOW.
There are too many answers to those questions and everyone who steps up to the microphone has an agenda….or bereavement. There should be no guns. There should be more guns. There should be less medication. There should be more medication. There should be more counseling, greater awareness. There is enough counseling, but there should be more security and our children should be taught how to hit the ground.
Recently when I was seated at a restaurant, first to arrive for a small group discussion, I questioned a friendly server about the available exits. When she pointed at the front door as the only exit available, I explained that I wanted to know where ANY exit was, in case of an emergency: her response was raised eyebrows. I don’t remember which horrible shooting incident in a public place inspired my question and it is frankly immaterial.
The point is our society has changed in ways we couldn't have imagined even a generation ago. We are at war with members of our own communities and the enemy is difficult to identify. Normal, everyday activities take us into the demilitarized zone where at any moment the rules of engagement may be challenged.
In response, we are split as to how to prepare. There are those who would blame the weapons and there are those who would say that if the principal of that school had had even a small handgun in her desk, she could have been equal to the situation and we would be hailing her as a hero for the salvation of many innocent lives…little people I didn't know, but whose loss I can feel gripping my emotions and tearing at my heart. Try to find one family member who doesn't wish that the principal had been armed; yet in general, that’s not our goal.
Recent decades have seen major changes in the fabric of our culture. Too many people can easily remember a time when dead or missing children were not part of our everyday awareness. In that time, a news network that focused on crimes against women and children – `a la HLN – would have seemed macabre. Written material that contained “the seven words” or focused on violent or sexual subjects existed but was generally unavailable. Movies and games didn't have to be “rated” for language, violence and sexual content. Video security wasn't needed in the maternity ward, the daycare or in our own homes. Children could play in the toy department while parents shopped…play in the neighborhood for hours unattended…walk to school…ride their bikes to a friend’s house. They didn't have to be schooled in “proper touching” or taught how to respond if someone approached them.
I've visited the home of a friend, 28 years old, who – when the video game is on – is enveloped in an environment of death and destruction that takes place in a shopping mall, of all places. He becomes one of the guerrilla warriors in that “game”, communicating with others like him via audio as they all rack up points by killing their enemies. Featuring realistic sounds and sights of violent aggression so gripping that it should be disturbing, instead it is part of everyday life…a game…entertainment. One of the people online that he interacts with during play is a pre-teen.
I researched the nature of U.S. video games and found that the biggest percentage of the top ten sellers – no matter who you ask – feature what the industry calls “first person shooters”. And though The Entertainment Software Association (http://www.theesa.com/facts/index.asp ) swears that games don’t influence the thinking of gamers, there are many scientists and researchers and reams of peer reviewed studies that take issue with that (http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2011/05/110525151059.htm).
Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that games have caused the kind of tragedies that make headlines; but there is no reason not to observe possible cause and effect. During and just prior to the life of the Newtown shooter, there were dramatic changes in the tone of accepted cultural norms. I don’t need researchers to validate a correlation between a cultural change and increased violence: I’ve seen it with my own eyes. If you don’t see it, too, then you’re either too young or you’re patronizing the Emperor.
There are so many threads in the fabric of our culture: those threads are darkening and hardening into Kevlar. The problem is our mental and emotional responses to that hardening aren’t keeping pace. We live in a society where exposure to vile acts in reality and fantasy is common; where perverted responses are part of everyday life; where aggression is promoted as a form of entertainment and where the less rational members of that group may be influenced in ways we don’t want to consider.
It is hard to express without disgust, but in spite of the current national dialogue about what happened, shoulder-shrugging acceptance may make this horrible experience in Newtown just background noise in an obscenely short period of time. We all know that life will go on and a consensus on what changes need to be made will be nearly impossible.
12/17/2012
Sunday, December 16, 2012
When I discovered Blogger, I had a vague idea of what to do with it and I set off trying to make that happen. The problem was the vagueness of it...that doesn't work so well. When we set out to do something, we'd better have some certainty on a higher plane than "vague" or we'll never make it.
True to my own words, I didn't make it. Blogger sat by waiting for me to heave some certainty into it and I went moving all over the country having all kinds of adventures and experiences that were never shared in writing. Shame.
In addition, I found I had that block so many writers suffer from: SSTEM. I won't explain exactly what that acronym stands for since I made it up and it was never meant to apply to anyone else; however, I will describe the symptoms. If you're a fellow sufferer, you'll recognize them.
You're really good at expressing yourself and insightful enough that people actually seek out your assistance or input. You write so well that you've done it many times in many forms and have been published and recognized with awards...even money. You want to use your words to earn your bread - or part of it - but experience has taught you enough that you've lost that youthful edge that comes from thinking your opinions need to be heard, validated, acknowledged. You've been humbled by the thought that you can't possibly know everything and you wonder why anyone needs to hear you. After all, what can really be said that hasn't been said before? (we begin to hear some philosophy creeping in here...) It has occurred to you what hubris lurks in boldly submitting your opinion for examination and it becomes - instead of the calling you originally identified - risky business. Result: SSTEM.
After much consideration and careful self-examination, I've overcome my condition and will be pressing on. I've had to take quite a hefty booster shot of BS to cure the SSTEM, so I apologize if some of that seeps out in my posts; but I hope you'll be happy that I'm in remission. Please let me know if you want to purchase a silicone bracelet or a tee shirt to support the cause.
12/16/2012
Friday, March 07, 2003
Today, Spring was seen creeping toward us head on. We have expectations of the season: budding trees; longer days; birds and flowers. We have all that, and the smell of war in the air. We are happy about Spring. We don't know how we feel about war.
I saw an important news conference last night hosted by the White House and featuring the president. He is not apologetic about starting this war. In fact, he says it is not his fault. According to GW, Saddam is choosing this. "I'm not calling him out; he's calling me out."
It's true that Saddam has had plenty of time to avoid this outcome. He certainly seems to have evil intentions. What call would he have to create chemical and biological weapons, if not for immoral mischief? Still, he is going to be attacked without provocation. His violations are against a global organization (the U.N.), and - legally - should be dealt with via that organization. Their plan is to continue inspecting. The president says he has an obligation to protect the interests of the people of the United States. We are mad at Saddam for being a boor and a bully; for being mean to the people he controls; for aiding and abetting terrorists; for being psycho when it comes to germs and snoopy visitors. We'll show him, boy. We'll take away his toys and his chemistry set and tell him he can't play here anymore.
While speaking last night, the president talked about Saddam's neighborhood so many times that I couldn't help thinking about Mr. Rogers. It has been just a week since Fred Rogers left us, hopefully leaving behind his fight against cancer to go on to a quieter, friendlier neighborhood than he left. I've always liked Mr. Rogers. There was something about him and the world he built that demanded attention. As an adult, I've admired Fred Rogers because he worked in an industry he hated because he hated it. Seeing the television industry as the enemy when it came to the lives and futures of children, he found a way to use the media against itself. He was a calm, friendly voice in a cold, cruel world. He is missed.
Amazingly enough, regardless of the deaths of saints or scoundrels, the world goes on. Spring will come whether Saddam is here or not. Time and circumstance will go on to create new realities and there is nothing anyone can do to stop that. You or I could drop dead, tragically or unexpectedly... it would make no difference. Think about it. You've mourned the passing of loved ones or been shocked that someone you least expected was suddenly dead. You've had to make adjustments in your life because of their deaths. It has made you uncomfortable, sad; maybe even depressed. But the day after they were sent to their final resting place, you went to work or at least prepared to. Your life went on as usual, soon enough. And it would have been the same for them, were they in your place.
I guess the point I'm trying to make is this: no matter what scent is in the air - whether of war or of Spring - life is going to go on pretty much as it always has. If you don't believe in God, then there is no hell or hereafter to worry about. If you do believe in God, then you must know that "weapons of mass destruction" will never do any more damage to the world than he is willing to allow. Think about that. Create your own circumstances as much as possible; the rest, as usual, is as it should be.
3/07/2003
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