Commentary

Commentary from other people:

Matthew Parris hits the spot.

Martin Woollacott is perhaps a bit too optimistic.

The Dalai Lama states his hopes plainly.

Robert Fisk puts the arguments forcefully.

(I’m going to try and mirror copies of these articles to Sunpig, because I don’t want to lose them when the newspapers in question reorganise their sites.)


BBC2 hosted an evening of Star Trek yesterday, in honour of the series’ 35th anniversary. I found it curiously uplifting. At least in one corner of the popular media lives a TV show which at its heart, presents a positive vision for humanity.

They showed Trek IV at the end of the evening. Abi pointed out the similarity between Kirk & Spock in Trek IV and Jay and Silent Bob in Kevin Smith’s films (Chasing Amy, Dogma, et al.)

🙂

Days away

We’re back from a few days away. On Thursday we drove up to Aberdeen to spend some time with Grandma McLean. On Friday we trundled around Deeside, ending up at the Gairnshiel Lodge. The Lodge is located about six miles out of Ballater, just before a humpback bridge. When we drove over that bridge last year, we were met by a horse charging straight at us. Nothing quite so interesting this time, though.

Saturday, we went to Mum & Dad in Murthly, and spent the day there, before driving back late in the evening. We would have stayed the night, if B hadn’t been sleeping so poorly. In Aberdeen and at Gairnshiel he woke up in the middle of the night (2/3 am), wanting to be fed. Strange places, restless bunny. He settled fairly easily in his own cot last night, and didn’t wake up until 06:30 this morning.

He’s been a bit grumpy this afternoon, though. I wonder if he’s missing all the constant social stimulation he’s been having over the last few days?

He’s in the front pouch, screaming his head off as I’m writing this. He’s getting too big and active (not to mention too heavy) to be carrying him around in the pouch all the time, though. So on Thursday, before we headed off for Aberdeen, we stopped by at Mothercare and bought a baby backpack. Big success! B loves it! It puts him up much higher than he is accustomed to being, and as a bonus it allows him to play with our hair.


He’s asleep in the pouch now.


The trip was a nice break, but it was emotionally exhausting. Abi and I were both struggling to deal with the events in the US; not just the attacks themselves, but how people, and especially our so-called leaders are dealing with them.

In the car, with B asleep in the back seat, we talked about a lot of things: our families, our countrymen, war, global capitalism, poverty, human nature and the “selfish gene”. Probably some of the best intellectual discussions we’ve had in a long while. And although we’re still both feeling very depressed, I think we’ve hit bottom and are on our way back up. For now. (Abi’s in the kitchen with the light box. Last year’s winter was a struggle for me too, so I think I might also start taking some light soon.)


Song for today: Zero 7 — Destiny. The chilled out beat fits the slow gloominess of the afternoon. “When I’m weak, I draw strength from you.”


B has gone through several stages on his way to crawling. First, he was just pushing off randomly with his legs. Then he started coordinating the legs, and bringing them up under his hips. His arm strength came later, but he couldn’t work the arms and legs together, and so he ended up moving backwards! All the while, though, most of his progress has been by bursts of frantic leg action. This afternoon, in his lovely and soft new trousers, was was on our shiny wooden floor. His hands could gain purchase, and the rest of his body could slide freely. And for the first time, he pulled himself forward. Cool!


And finally, some thoughts on the current polical situation (turn away now if you’re easily offended):

  • When president Bush talks about a “War on Terrorism,” the terminology and rhetoric sounds sensible because we are used to hearing the phrases “War on crime” and “War on drugs.” But when politicians talk about the war on drugs, they don’t generally mean sending warships, planes and troops to Colombia, and carpet-bombing the coca plantations on another nations soil.

    The “War on social problem X” rhetorical construct is now being used a smokescreen to cover up manoeuvres in preparation for military action. For the US, waging war on terrorism is much more acceptable in the international arena than, for example, declaring war on Afghanistan.

    We need to beware of a “bait and switch” being pulled on us: we (I’m talking Europe, here) cannot allow ourselves to be dragged into a real war, against targets as yet unnamed, under the guise of tracking down and prosecuting specific criminals, who so far remain unidentified.

    Fortunately, European leaders seem to be taking a stance against president Bush labelling this criminal investigation as a “War”.
  • The media are severely distorting reality.

    What we’re seeing on TV is not what is really happening. The news channels have a vested interest in showing forceful and shocking images, and telling dramatic stories. They have to, because otherwise we wouldn’t watch them. They need to make us watch them to ensure their survival, and they make us watch them by appealling to our rubbernecking fascination with tragedies that happen to other people.

    They can claim all they want that they are showing their footage and commentary because of public interest. To a certain extent, this is true. But we must also remember that the news editors report to managers, who report to boards of directors, who report to shareholders. If CNN had not devoted 100% of its coverage to last week’s disaster, people would have lost money, and lost their jobs.

    The media are driven by innate human selfishness.

    The counterweight of human altruism is provided by the rescue workers, and everyone at ground level who has given aid, blood and money. Eventually, the media will cover this as well. It doesn’t make them as much money, though.
  • Abi has pointed out to me that on certain on-line forums, anyone who does not speak out in strong favour of immediate action, or who favours a moderate course in addressing the socio-economic and political causes of terrorism rather than their aftermaths, is being flamed out of the water, labelled as a troll, and called anti-American. Well, guess what? That kind of arrogant, superior and nationalistic attitude is precisely one of the reasons the US is perceived so badly in international politics. Think of Microsoft, and its blatant disregard for honesty, fair competition and legal strictures. Now multiply that up to a global political scale. The US is big and powerful enough that it can generally do as it pleases.

    Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely.

    With great power comes great responsibility.

    How do these two statement tie up? With great difficulty, and much pain. Striking back is quick and easy, and satisfying in the short term. In the long term, it will be disastrous unless the US also shows that it is willing to learn a lessons from this disaster. This will be made all the harder because any steps to take on board any of the terrorists’ grievances will be seen as giving in to them.

Knee-jerk reactions

The knee-jerk reactions from yesterday seem to be starting to wear off. The media seem to be willing to contemplate the victims themselves now, their friends and relatives, and the ongoing rescue efforts. There are even a few rational voices calling for restraint, and for the crime to be investigated before taking blind revenge.

I feel sad and depressed, like a great weight is pulling me down. And I feel guilty for feeling like that, because I haven’t lost anyone. What right do I have to claim sadness? How do I, sound of limb, with my family intact, dare try to own a tiny piece of this disaster, when tens of thousands of people have just had their whole lives shattered?

It is this feeling, and these questions, that depress me even more. Because I realize that politicians, the media, and other people “in power” are trying to claim this tragedy as their own. They are determining that it is their responsibility to take action against the perpetrators.

A parent who loves his children, or a friend who loves those who are close to him, wants to retaliate against anyone who hurts them. I know this feeling. But it stems from close, personal friendship and love.

Politicians want to step into this same role. They want to be the “protectors” of their constitients. They want to act as parents to a city, or a nation. But with a very few exceptions, I do not believe that they do this out of love or concern for the people they purport to serve. They do it to enhance and maintain their own positions of power.

The politicians don’t care. The media don’t care. The capitalist bosses don’t care. Yet they all pretend to care, because that is how they cement their own positions. They need to fool us into giving them our collective trust.

The only thing that really matters is the people you love, and interactions you have on a personal level. A president, prime minister, or king can’t care about millions of people. It’s not humanly possible.

My own participation in Western capitalist society depresses and angers me. Humans are selfish. I am selfish. I am too attached to my own comforts, and this attachment binds me to those forces I have just reviled.

One’s own morality only stands up to so much scrutiny before breaking down. The only way to continue to think of yourself as a moral person is to turn a blind eye to things you know would be wrong if you examined them closely enough.

As I write this, I find myself spiralling down into even more unhappiness and depression. I can’t try to comprehend all the evils of the world at once. The simple thought of losing anyone close to me is enough to make me cry for everyone who has lost a loved one in this disaster.

It seems inconceivable that life should go on after yesterday. But somehow, it must. It always does.

(Abi has a more hopeful view of humanity than I do.)