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the skunks of los feliz
1.01.2005
 

I had abstracted last week's horror to the point that I was able to relegate the ever-growing death toll to the rational part of my mind, to reduce it to the geophysical mechanics of tsunami creation, and the politics of international foreign aid.

I donated to a charity online. I told myself that this was just the earth being the earth. Hell, this kind of thing has been happening since the beginning of time: Pompeii, etc. , right? I put the whole thing in context, rationalized it to death, and stripped it of emotion. It was just too big to grasp, too horrifying to contemplate in full.

Then I stumbled upon this little tale of horror, this gem of sickening callousness, this scintillating example of how unfeeling the universe truly is.

When you read things like this, about paralyzed children swept away in a tempest of water and debris, unable to run, unable to swim, words begin to fail you. It's so excessively terrible, so needlessly cruel, so over the top, it almost becomes absurd.

Almost.
 
Comments:
On the other hand: sometimes terrible things don't happen. Cheesy? Sure. But I'll take a Lassie story any day of the week over the horrors that keep flooding back to us.
 
And isn't it nice when bad things don't happen?
 
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