Super Duper
Mo-wo is a bit of a news-viewer. I despise the news. I am quite capable of bringing myself down - why should I invite additional reasons to feel hopeless about things over which I have no control when I can barely handle the things over which I supposedly do have some control? I need not belabour the more obvious defects in commercial news broadcasts which might be, say, a complete lack of impartiality, the investigative acumen of a used kleenex, the moral engagement of Joseph Mengele, to name but three.
Tonight on the news there have been stories about the failure of the Canadian public health care system and the various facile solutions proposed by partisan hacks & c., hostages in Iraq (no parrots were kidnapped in Iraq today), and an item regarding the orphaning of William Reeve (son of Mr. and Mrs. Reeve). This 15 year old boy of whom I have never heard before has lost both parents in roughly one year though it will have been some time since he had seen dad flying around the house with his red BVDs on outside his pants. This kid has it bad and he is probably one of the very few orphans in the world with any kind of financial security, in the 99.9 percentile.
Which brings me to the rather sappy (if I don't say so myself) element of this here lob into the emptiness of the blogoverse: gratitude. My friend N said the other day that we are lucky people, living a type of life that places us in the top 1% of people. Of course I am not saying it like N said it, he's one fancy-talking guy. As loathe as I am to agree with anyone, he's right. I live in a safe, dry, home in a largely crime free neighbourhood in a reasonably attractive city in an affluent confederation with my wife and daughter; we are healthy; we are employed in reasonably stable situations; my person and property are not subject to the threat of the evils of a violent kleptocracy: this nation (at the moment) appears able to manage its debts; it rarely snows in Vancouver; and we are permitted to enjoy a large number of material benefits which, while they do not at all improve us as people, do permit us no small amount of creature comforts.
I have spent a daily-increasing portion of the past few days actually remembering and considering N's expression. I have found myself fairly elated, at moments, considering the truth of his statement as it applies in my life. It is infuriating. If I wasn't feeling so good I'd have to take this up with someone.
So, -wo is now viewing "The Corporation", a polemic documentary about the evils of corporate North America penned by a former professor of mine (by whom I was consistently annoyed on account of his heavy-handed champagne socialist leanings and love of jazz "fusion") and it, the documentary, appears to be advancing the argument that we are killing ourselves by our greed, destroying our home, this planet; we are exploiting the weak, marketing the very foundations of life; corporations are bad bad bad (as though I, the individual, I have no complicity in this machine) and I know, even though I don't want to admit it, that he is correct: we are living near the zenith of our society, living beyond our means; that this is but a brief flowering before the inevitable decay, anomie, destruction by the vandals; children wearing too-large pants and listening to vulgar nursery rhymes layered over cro-magnon 4/4 beats, sold by shaken booties and shiny firearms; pseudonymous authors abusing the semi colon (wait a damn minute here); still, I love my family, I love my life, and today I am grateful.
Tonight on the news there have been stories about the failure of the Canadian public health care system and the various facile solutions proposed by partisan hacks & c., hostages in Iraq (no parrots were kidnapped in Iraq today), and an item regarding the orphaning of William Reeve (son of Mr. and Mrs. Reeve). This 15 year old boy of whom I have never heard before has lost both parents in roughly one year though it will have been some time since he had seen dad flying around the house with his red BVDs on outside his pants. This kid has it bad and he is probably one of the very few orphans in the world with any kind of financial security, in the 99.9 percentile.
Which brings me to the rather sappy (if I don't say so myself) element of this here lob into the emptiness of the blogoverse: gratitude. My friend N said the other day that we are lucky people, living a type of life that places us in the top 1% of people. Of course I am not saying it like N said it, he's one fancy-talking guy. As loathe as I am to agree with anyone, he's right. I live in a safe, dry, home in a largely crime free neighbourhood in a reasonably attractive city in an affluent confederation with my wife and daughter; we are healthy; we are employed in reasonably stable situations; my person and property are not subject to the threat of the evils of a violent kleptocracy: this nation (at the moment) appears able to manage its debts; it rarely snows in Vancouver; and we are permitted to enjoy a large number of material benefits which, while they do not at all improve us as people, do permit us no small amount of creature comforts.
I have spent a daily-increasing portion of the past few days actually remembering and considering N's expression. I have found myself fairly elated, at moments, considering the truth of his statement as it applies in my life. It is infuriating. If I wasn't feeling so good I'd have to take this up with someone.
So, -wo is now viewing "The Corporation", a polemic documentary about the evils of corporate North America penned by a former professor of mine (by whom I was consistently annoyed on account of his heavy-handed champagne socialist leanings and love of jazz "fusion") and it, the documentary, appears to be advancing the argument that we are killing ourselves by our greed, destroying our home, this planet; we are exploiting the weak, marketing the very foundations of life; corporations are bad bad bad (as though I, the individual, I have no complicity in this machine) and I know, even though I don't want to admit it, that he is correct: we are living near the zenith of our society, living beyond our means; that this is but a brief flowering before the inevitable decay, anomie, destruction by the vandals; children wearing too-large pants and listening to vulgar nursery rhymes layered over cro-magnon 4/4 beats, sold by shaken booties and shiny firearms; pseudonymous authors abusing the semi colon (wait a damn minute here); still, I love my family, I love my life, and today I am grateful.
posted by p-man at 9:33 p.m.
1 Comments:
It really is all about perspective. Thanks for the reminder.
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