Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Why I haven't talked about the Boston bombing

A few reasons, really.

1.  I have nothing to add to the discussion. 
It's a tragedy. Of course it's a tragedy. But you already know that. I don't need to say it, because no one is going to think I am heartless or condone the bombing because I didn't speak out about it.

2.  I am all tragedied out. 
Call me all sorts of names, but with 9/11 and Katrina and Hurricane Sandy and New Town, I am emotionally exhausted and cannot deal with this shit. Also, I have other things commanding my attention, like my family, the Gun Control bill, and whatever shenanigans North Korea may or may not pull.

3.  The news cycle will eat your soul.
As Tamara said, "I think that they fear if they don't feed the microphone a steady stream of words, it will become hungry and eat their face." And so it's all endless speculation and fear-mongering.  I remember the days after 9/11, when I was desperate for someone to talk about something else. Anything else. Yes, please, tell me about your bowel surgery, it will keep me from thinking about terrorism for 15 minutes. So instead, I write about guns and Traveller and whatever else I like to write about so that you, dear reader, have the option of not having to deal with tragedy for a few minutes. No, this doesn't make me a bad person -- see Point 1, above.

And now, enjoy a soothing video of a sloth snorgling a cat. 


  1. Great video, and liking Jason Mraz makes it even!

  2. I always tell people 911 was when i found SpongeBob. Nickelodeon was the only channel safe to watch.

  3. Dude, I totally get that. There wasn't a tragedy that drove me to watching My Little Pony, but I completely understand why soldiers in war zones are nuts about it. Sometimes you just NEED wholesome, funny, innocent television.

  4. The aftermath is that the media is trying to blame straight white males. Again. Folks, I'm out of guilt. Trying to make me feel pity for some group that liberals love to pity now just evokes the attitude of "they can live or die by their own efforts, it's not my problem" in me. I've had it.

    I may be willing to help individuals, but if they play the pitiful group membership card, they are on their own.

  5. That friendship is gonna come to a quick end when that cat loses an eye to a tragically misplaced four inch claw.


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