Life Math

What's a life worth?

At least 160 people were murdered in car bomb explosions today in Baghdad, Iraq.

And in Blacksburg, Virginia, USA, a terribly sad, disturbed, and lonely boy murdered 32 people.

So what's a life worth?

Every day, hundreds of people are murdered because of ignorance (starvation), greed (invading other countries illegally to control their natural resources), or prejudice (any religious/cultural/ethnic group against another), or a whole host of other really stupid reasons.

Is it that such large scale murders (3,000 people on September 11, 2001, or 100,000 civilians and soldiers in Iraq during the past four years) are too enormous for our tiny, post-simian brains to process? Possibly.

And if so, there are those who maintain that Blacksburg will be used to encapsulate the helplessness, rage, anger, or sadness we all feel about these large scale murders. (Let's be clear here: These are murders. Not clean, emotion-free "deaths"—but murders. The purposeful taking of a life.)

So again, what's a life worth?

According to the zombified US media, a life is only worth remembering, honoring, or discussing when it's a young American citizen who isn't fighting in the illegal occupation of another country.

So media zombies, please start talking about everyone's murder, and therefore, everyone's value. Because maybe, just maybe, if you wake from your Shrub-induced stupor, and start reporting what's really happening, people will express their outrage, anger, and sadness by actually doing something good to improve conditions all over our sad, pathetic little planet.

As Charles Dickens put it so aptly, "Any man's death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind."

Patriot's Day Bloggyness

Well, it's been an interesting month or so. And I am a bad correspondent! I'm sure that all one-and-a-half of my regular readers have wondered where I went? Here is a list of of locales I've recently visited:
1. Great Barrington (March 17-March 18)
2. The Burlington Mall (March 24)
3. My parent's house, Reading (March 31)
4. Beth Israel Hospital (April 5)
5. Various bizarre-o-world locations in my sleep, including my dead maternal grandfather's new house by the ocean. (Don't ask.)

Also, I'm a terrorist.

Yes, it's true. I've realized that based on the Shrub Administration's six-year mantra-chanting about elitist, lefty liberals "if you're not with us, you're with them", that, since I'm an elitist lefty liberal, I must be with them. I count myself in good company because Ben Franklin was considered a terrorist by the British and so was, oh, anyone else who thought carefully about revolution back in 1775ish.

Oh, and by the way, the country was NOT founded for purposes of religious freedom (and even it had been, the word "freedom" seems to have utterly dropped out of the equation for anyone not an Evangelical neoconservative Christian.) This country was founded by a group of 17th-century investment bankers. They supported the Plymouth Bay Colony in exchange for the Pilgrims' promise to turn a profit. Please see Nathaniel Philbrick's latest and greatest, Mayflower, for more on this.

So the next time you hear some Evangelical neoconservative freak rant and rave about how America is a Godly, Christian nation, you can just tell them to shut-the-fuck-up. America the Profit-Oriented yes. America the Size-Obssessed, yes. America the often beautiful, often frustrating, always.

I think this is all coming out because I have to attend a Daughters of the American Revolution meeting with my Mum. And honestly, if I'm going to be all Revolutionary and so forth, I'm going to get it right.

I suspect that this is why I don't play politics well with others. I have firebrand-y revolutionaries in the genes.

Things to enjoy today, Patriot's Day, here in the land of the bean and the cod:
1. Julie Powell's blog. If you can, read Julie's entire Julie/Julia Project Blogbefore you read the book. Trust me.
2. The Boston Masochist-a-thon.. Thousands of self-flagellating runners cruising along the streets of Beantown in the POURING RAIN for 26.2 miles to prove, what? That hypothermia is real? (All due respect to my sister, who ran in 1995. But I still think she's nuts.)
3. Spring in New England.

Happy Patriot's Day, everyone! Go spread some revolution!

The Good, the Bad, and the Freakin' Cold

So, no matter how craptastic you perceive your life to be, it's incredible how quickly one event can change your perception. And usually, that event is something simple. For example, dinner with a good friend. Or, five extra minutes in bed, next to the person you love.

And it makes you realize that instead of measuring your week (or day) in terms of how crappy it was, it probably might not be a bad idea to quantify all the really great moments, instead.

There's love there.

A lot of it.

And I should just shut the fuck up and stop complaining.

P.S. It probably didn't help that this week was really, really, really cold. Come on Spring, I know you're out there.
P.P.S. Early happy birthday to Mum, who is 71, and to the Lukinator, who is a spry and sassy 2.

A P.S. on Publishing

First, it was Jordan Marsh.

Then it was The Boston Globe.

Followed by Filene's.

What next? Larry Luchino and George Steinbrenner get wise to the economies of scale, merge, and have The Boston Yankees play against their sister franchise, The New York Sox?

Enough with the Manhanttanization of the land of the b 'n c....already.

And the benefits of merging are apparently not lost on The Grey Lady's editors, who seem to be assigning stories to both theirGlobe and Timesunderlings on a "kill two birds with one stone" basis. Otherwise, how do you explain this story in The New York Times, and this story The Boston Globeboth of which appeared on the February 21.

Or is it that Wednesday is still Prince Spaghetti Day?

Freedom of, and from, speech

Part 1: Freedom of Speech
Okay, so here in the land of the b 'n c, we had an interesting kerfuffle about electronic freedom of speech vs. freedom from (certain) speech.

Over at Etiquetteer.com, our guide to Perfect Propriety does a wonderful job of outlining the particulars of the situation. And, I have to say: I agree completely. With the advent of technology such as the one employed to create this blog, there has been an utter lack of civic instruction with regard to the eventual distribution of that technology. If 14-year-olds have access to a computer and the internet, they then must be taught that what they publish—and make no mistake, blogging or MySpace pages are publishing—is open for all to read.
(Let's just consider this: Why do "public" and "publish" share such close taxonomic roots? They are connected.)

And if your average 14-year-old chooses to use profanity, than he or she should not feign horror or shock when profanity is used back at them.

Part 2: Freedom from Speech
Company today requested that I be nicer to it. Company wants me to "not be so blunt, and perhaps, take an interpersonal relationships course".

Company has determined that it does not want me to speak freely. I don't agree.

Since technically, Company has more individual rights than I do, does that mean I must abide by Company's desire for freedom from certain of my speech? Where does the country end and Company begin?

Sigh.

Frakkin' rain

And here I was, levitating with glee about a big, ole' snowstorm....but no.

A mighty swath of tropical air is pushing the arctic cold front northwest just far enough to make certain that those of us dwelling inside and southeast of said tropical swath will see our hard-won, paltry, three inches of snow turn to slush by 3PM tomorrow afternoon.

Poopy smell-head warm air mass!

Cheese and Snow

Is it remotely possible to have a better weekend than one surrounded by good friends, good cheese, and good wine? I think not. Well, I suppose the whole thing could have taken place in a cozy, remote cabin surrounded by quietly wheezing pine trees and mounds of fluffy, yet sculpture- and ski-friendly snow.

Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. It's never going to snow in Boston, again, is it? No, it's not. Thank you ExxonMobil.

Or is it? YES!!!

Let me frame my excitement for you:

Meteorologists on New England-based television stations get, on average, three to four times as much air-time as meteorologists in other parts of the country. Further, our local affiliates do not—DO NOT—hire "weather readers". In order to work those blue screens, you have to be a genuine scientist.

So, that said, these poor guys and gals have been stuck in the most boring weather pattern this side of of a desert. For almost two solid weeks, it's been "dry and cold...artic air will continue to settle over the area, and it will be bright and sunny".

Forecasters do not move here to say that.
They move to San Diego.

Residents do not live here to endure that.
They move to San Diego.

So I honestly can't recall the last time I've seen so many of our local meteorlogists practically levitate with glee at the potential for a serious snowstorm on Valentine's Day.

And, with so much cheese and wine and good fellowship still in me, I too, and levitating with glee.