News From Home

I checked in on Rula's blog, another Bonderman traveler, on Tuesday and she alluded to the Virginia tragedy, but without saying what had happened. I had a moment of panic, knowing something very bad had happened, but not knowing what. I have had the experience of knowing something very bad has happened before, but not knowing exactly what -- it is a very bad feeling.

I quickly found out via the internet, then walked around Aguas Calientes in a daze. Life went on as normal around me. Very strange. I think being gone almost makes me feel this tragedy more because I feel more connected to the States than the others around me. Perhaps it is better here though -- I am listening to CNN radio right now on the internet and they never stop talking about the shooting. I am not sure what that accomplishes. We, as a society, are obsessed with sensationalizing violence.

Mostly, I am sad for our country and for humanity. Now I am in a country where people die each day due in some way to poverty. We live in a country that is so wealthy, no one needs to die of disease, hunger or thirst. Instead we shoot each other senselessly.

My friend Elliot, put it harshly but perhaps appropriately: "Dear Psychos, If you are going to go on a murder/suicide rampage, please do the suicide part first. Thanks! Sincerely, Elliot"

You get a whole song here. Read the lyrics and think about them. It is an interesting commentary on our culture. I was not a huge Bright Eyes (oops, gave that one away) fan before leaving the country. Now I cannot listen to this song without wanting to cry.

We must talk in every telephone, get eaten off the web
We must rip out all the epilogues from the books we have read
And to the face of every criminal strapped firmly to a chair
We must stare, we must stare, we must stare.

We must take all of the medicines too expensive now to sell
Set fire to the preacher who is promising us hell
And in the ear of every anarchist that sleeps but doesn't dream
We must sing, we must sing, we must sing.

And it'll go like this
While my mother waters plants my father loads his gun.
He says, "Death will give us back to God,
just like the setting sun is returned to the lonesome ocean."

And then they splashed into the deep blue sea.
It was a wonderful splash.

We must blend into the choir, sing as static with the whole,
We must memorize nine numbers and deny we have a soul,
And to this endless race for property and privilege to be won
We must run, we must run, we must run.
We must hang up in the belfry where the bats in moonlight laugh
We must stare into a crystal ball and only see the past
And in the caverns of tomorrow with our flashlights and our love
We must plunge, we must plunge, we must plunge.

And then we'll get down there,
way down to the very bottom of everything
and then we'll see it, oh we'll see it, we'll see it, we'll see it.

Oh my morning's coming back
The whole world's waking up
Oh the city bus is swimming past.
I'm happy just because I found out I am really no one.