FEAR OF REALITY

Blood Diamonds is on TV, but I couldn't watch it. Real, horrible violence is frightening. I love mysteries and lots of stuff that doesn't get to that level. I remember the horrors of Sierre Leone, and now, Darfur. What goes on in Africa is even more heinous than some of the other genocides in our world. I think it's the mindless violence. In Bosnia, the victims knew their murderers. They were often next-door neighbors. Same with the Holocaust. Not so in South and Central America. There it's more political and power stuff. It's kind of in the middle. Dropping tied up students into the ocean from an airplane, is, I guess, more terrifying than being shot at random, but perhaps not in the same league as Darfur. Who knows? That is a horrible comparison to have to make. We make the violent apes look gentle. But, that's us.

We're stupid too. Why would people given the marvelous right to vote choose someone on the basis of a better drinking buddy and ignore that person's persistent failures, prejudice, and the fact that the person represented ideas opposite to the voter's self preservation? The Republicans stand for big money keeping their money and cuts in services to needy and the general public. So why would working people in Michigan or anywhere else vote for Republicans? I know lots of working people resent poor people getting services for free. The worker wants to see personally the disabled person is starving. That's sick. The same worker gives up college help for his children, infrastructure repair including safe bridges and protection against floods. When we don't help black people on roofs in a flood, white people give up clean beaches and open libraries. You don't get new highways if you don't build new school buildings. The only people who would stop health care for children are the same ones who let bridges deteriorate to the state where they fail and cars with people inside them drop into the river. No matter how many times the statistics are printed, shouted, put on tee shirts, people still believe what they feel. Forget facts, like they don't count because the facts don't uphold the prejudices. I'm truly sick of it but I'm used to it and ignoring it.

Just like everyone else, I live my life in a cocoon that I assiduously maintain. I shut out my neighbors because I suspect their ideas would clash with mine. I pray they haven't sought out my artwork because I fear they'd think me a pervert. No, I'm not, but most people don't understand free spirits and I seriously fit into that category. Taking up life in a single house with a garden and a private driveway is a panacea, or a step toward it if you've lived all your life on one street sharing steps, patios, and driveways. I realize that if I become disabled, rather than survive in a group living situation, suicide should be my answer. I'm assuming this will not happen for a good long time, but whenever it might occur, I will look for Jerry and hope he takes my hand and leads me to another place. Meanwhile, at this moment, Autumn lays on my desk, her tail ringing the mouse. She waits for me to go to sleep, forgetting she has to wait until Harry awakens in the morning before she can sleep on my chest. My furbaby wants my attention.