Today is a sad day. It's been a sad week. All the media is covering the death of Michael Jackson with a footnote for Farrah Fawcett and Ed McMahon. We seem to have a pattern of days, weeks of national catharsis, crying, sincere pronouncements about how life is short, be kind to the people around you, be sure to tell people how much they mean to you because you never know when your turn will come. Media people, tough news-announcers, politicians, all get a little choked-up, a little weepy-eyed, making statements about those who have died.
But think about it, people. We're waging war against numerous countries in the middle east. Why no connection? 50 people killed here, 64 there, some at a wedding, children in a school, people at a grocers just trying to buy some food for their families. What is the disconnect? Those people in Iraq must go to funerals every week, for young people, completely unexpected deaths, murders really, with no possibility of justice. The entire population of Iraq and Afghanistan have probably been sad for years now because their people keep getting killed. By us.
I heard the House of Representatives had a "Moment of Silence" for Michael Jackson. I wish they'd have one for peace. Have one for ending the wars. I don't begrudge Michael Jackson -- I'm sad he died too. But I'm also sad about all the people we've killed, all the people we will kill tomorrow and next week, all the children in the middle east who won't enjoy a summer, won't play in the sprinklers or eat a bar-be-que because we are attacking their country. I'm sad because the Democrats seem less interested in peace than even the psychotics under the Bush regime. I'm sad about the prospects for this country, for the unemployed, for global warming, for peace. And I'm really sick and tired of reading about rich doctors who are nothing more than drug pushers, whose patients die, but they never get prosecuted for murder. If that's what happened.
It is a sad week.
Roy Orbison, "Crying."
Ray Charles and Barbra Streisand, "Crying Time."
Kathleen Battle and the Boys Choir of Harlem, "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot."