2.03.2003

by far the meanest, most self-righteous post i've done to date

I think I need to start developing bastardly opinions on a number of issues. That will allow me to write as if I'm a perpetually upset individual, and thereby entertain you with my incisive commentary.

Unfortunately I'm just not that pissed off at life. I do occasionally have something to say, though.

I've heard something similar to this from a few of my friends so I know I'm not alone when I say this, but I think the space shuttle tragedy is being blown out of proportion. Of course it's sad that seven people lost their lives during a shuttle mission. They died trying to bring about the advancement of humanity the way they knew how. I recognize it's sad. But you wanna hear something worse?

Read these stats. Freaking AIDS. Read them.

All these people are going out to visit space and aviation museums so they can leave flowers and get their pictures taken in front of bronze space shuttles. They love to believe that we're living in a beleagured society where we have to fight off one tragedy after another.

Hey, I bet they'll be able to buy SS Columbia swag at Wal-Mart by next week. Then they can really show their social consciences. The news outlets can talk about how we as a nation have really pulled together in honor of these fallen heroes. They can interview people at the gas station as they fill their SUV with Premium and moan about the tragedy. They can talk about how what makes our nation great is still here, this indomitable American spirit that strives for freedom, equality, and justice around the world. Almost brings a tear to my eye just thinking about it.

At least we don't live in Zambia, where one hundred people die every day from AIDS. I mean, that's sad and all, but I'd hate to be surrounded by all these people whose deaths are meaningless. I doubt they were involved in any kind of space program. We'd much rather mourn seven fallen scientists than millions of uneducated pagans in Africa. That way we can go to the museum, leave a bouquet, shed a tear, and make a day of it as we discuss the tragedies of our fair nation over a vanilla latte before sleeping well in our Pottery Barn homes.

steps down from his soapbox

Time for me to go eat a sandwich and be smugly satisfied at my self-righteous diatribe against the apathy of others.

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