Thursday, May 5, 2011

The Good News

No, I'm not going to begin a sermon.

Have you ever noticed how news--the media's news, that it--is always (a fairly accurate generalization) bad news? Sure, now and again we read about the little old man who found his cat, or the kid next door who found the neighbours keys (alright, we never read those stories), but you know, news, is very, very mostly always bad.

We go "oh, shame, the poor Japanese", or "oh no, look at what's happened in Rwanda", or "tsk, tsk, those Libyans...the poor civilians", or even "well, Osama should have known, live by the sword, die by it..."

I'm a terrible pacifist. I threaten bodily harm to only my closest friends with whom I am comfortable--but aside from the playful punch, I do not, at all, do violence. I disagree with it. It kind of disgusts me. Sure, I like action movies (with hot guys) as much as the next girl, but in real life, violence begets violence, and it saddens me to see humans, and our alleged intelligence, resorting to it. It's petty, and seldom even necessary.

Yes, I know, there are times it is needed. But most times, you and I both know, it is not.

Well, here's a discovery I made: Humans are sick, twisted, disturbed ... sickos. Because the market only stocks what sells--the TV only shows what's watched--and what is watched? The news. We get a kick out of seeing our fellow man suffer. We tut and hum and aah, and we then continue eating our diner, as if the sight of injustice at our very doorsteps does not concern or bother us.

We make the mistake of forgetting that it can happen to us. We make the mistake of thinking we can do nothing to stop it.

I hate watching the news because it depresses me. Death, violence, injustice--those are the headlines, and there's nothing beside them. There's no happy stories about wonderful things that wonderful, beautiful people are doing. There's no good causes being shared, not at the prime-time news hour. Oh no, when everyone has gathered at the table, we'll play the sad stuff--the wars, the attacks, the terrorism. Why? Because we crave it. Think about it. Twin sites, FML and GMH are polar opposites, and illustrate my point perfectly. How many of you have heard of the FML site? Probably everyone who surfs the net. Who's heard of GMH? I've yet to meet a person who knew it before I did. There are 780 pages of little hopeful stories of the good of mankind. There are 1087 pages of people whining and complaining and sharing the moments in their lives when they wished that a black hole would swallow them. See, it's psychological too--we know it takes fewer muscles to smile than to frown and scowl, but do we smile in the misty early mornings on the busy trains? Do we smile at the vendors we pass every day? Do we smile at the receptionist, the librarian, the teacher, the stranger? No. Why? Because misery loves company.

I want to be the one to change that.

So, tomorrow, I'm smiling at everyone. A little secret smile like the Mona Lisa, a geeky grin, or a full on, toothy smile that will have everyone thinking I've forgotten my meds or something.

Whatever. I think I'll stop caring about what people think, no matter how hard that is. I'm not living for them, anyway.

...Smile. :)

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