I've begun to hate Topical Tuesdays. Most of the news is just too depressing. Today, I learned there were riots in London. The "news" story didn't say why people were rioting so I did a little digging.
Sure, there was a catalyst or defining incident, the death of a minority member at the hands of police. What the news didn't say is that there has been a lot of unrest among the young and poor. Seems that Great Britain has been bailing out its banks while cutting spending on social programs. People are angry especially the young who can't find jobs.
It was just as I suspected. This story hits close to home and because some branches of the media fear a copycat-reaction here in the States, they simply omit reporting on that part of the story. Maybe they hope enough of us just won't notice.
All this weighs heavily upon me. The world seems unsatisfied with journeying to "hell in a hand basket". Instead, we've strapped ourselves to a nuclear warhead and have laid aim at the fiery heart of THE brimstone inferno.
As I try to turn my attention to positive things or at least things I can impact, I tune in to the documentary playing on PBS. Placid, awkward bovines crammed in a narrow walkway await slaughter. Next, scene, somewhere in the Midwest, cattle stand in the driving snow. Suddenly, I imagine making warm coats for them and inviting them in for tea and cookies. I think a cow might be a very fine guest. They look at you with those great big eyes and listen. They seem to have all the time in the world. Shy at first, they warm to people quickly if we don't threaten them. If we give them warm coats and tea and cookies, they are charmed. Around those beautiful, big eyes they have the longest lashes. . . How can one not love such a beast?
But, I digress. I forget their horrible fate. I'm lost in memories of a splendid Guernsey swinging her be-tassled, rope-like tail, gracefully shooing the flies away from her soft,leathery hind quarters. The documentary drones on. The images are harsh and bloody. I see them without seeing. My happy cow-pet stands in a sunny field looking at me with her empathic eyes. The world outside us doesn't matter. It's time for tea and cookies.
This precarious walk between hope and despair is exhausting. I long for good news from some where, any where. Sometimes, in between the half-stories and the biases and what's not being said, bits of hope and goodness shine. They seem few and far between. As much as I want to champion the ideal of truth, especially truth in reporting, I'm not sure my psyche can handle it. Sometime the truth weighs too heavily. I feel like I've been trampled in a stampede. My pretty innocent bovines become the cause of my demise.
And so, I'm going to rethink Topical Tuesday. I know I need more hope, more light in my life. Hearing about the economy only taps into the yawning chasm of frustration that bubbles inside me. This news is too raw, too real. I feel as if I have no power. I understand breaking glass, looting and setting fires. I wonder how long it will be before we in the States start to do the same.
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