Animals and people, both, are starving, in pain, suffering needlessly. Wild places, native habitat, even whole countries (Syria, for instance) are being consumed by varied disruptive forces, be it climate change, greed-driven destruction, or war, leaving nowhere for those displaced–animals, plant, and human–to survive. And what do I come across this morning? An article decrying the ‘bra tax’ (bra = brassiere for those who don’t know that.}. Really?! And I countered, what about pharmaceuticals? That’s more critical, for sure, isn’t it? What about food, clean water, clean air, health care, safety from warring factions?
I am constantly faced with just how ludicrous is the furor and foment over non-critical issues. Reminds me of the airhead decrying her broken acrylic nail and another whose favorite salon girl was sick and couldn’t lavish skilled hands on her tresses. Then there’s the upset over, of all things, Oscar night or who won the Stupid Bowl. Really?!
Oh, my. How very insulated and trite.
“Omigod. I don’t have any cell phone signal.”
I know, I know–the sky is falling, the sky is falling, you can’t text your bff, is that it? Gee. Really tough, ain’t it! Meanwhile, your grandmother can’t afford the medications that keep her alive. But you don’t care. You’ve got to TEXT. You’ve got to have your nails down. You’ll just DIE if you can’t! (She’ll die if she doesn’t have her meds, but do you care? Nah.)
You know, there are certain times when I just want Big Daddy in the Sky to wipe the slate clean. No, I say to him, please don’t try again. It’s hopeless, a bad model, a worse idea. Intelligent design? Not at all.
