It’s really very hard to know what to say as I was reading the short biographies of the victims of the senseless, cruel, and bloody act of violence at Virginia Tech. I found myself getting really upset and having to stop reading them.
But what got me even further, was that this was on MSN, and some of the victims were listed as though nothing was known about them except where they were born. Quick searches found that this information was in fact pretty readily available elsewhere. Those who had compiled this page had obviously used pictures from MySpace, Virginia Tech’s website, and goodness knows where else, but seemingly hadn’t found the same blogs/sites that I had.
Yesterday while more of the information about the shooting was being gleaned, I found a video taken on some kind of camera phone of a police officer shooting, on a blog. The plays written by the gunman are now readily available via a blog on AOL, posted by a former classmate of the gunman. So now that we know who the gunman was and major news media are posting about his homicide/suicide note, I naturally assumed I would be able to find the text of that note somewhere in the blogosphere. I have not found it.
This has got me thinking a great deal about ‘citizen journalism’ and what information gets posted where, and when, and by whom, about huge tragedies like this one. It seems to me that only official sources would be able to read/see the suicide note. Is the decision not to release its details a form of information control by the authorities? Will they release it, ever? Am I just getting too used to instant news and citizen blogs? And more importantly, why is it so important that I personally feel I need to read that suicide note?
Maybe, and hopefully, an event like this causes me, and should cause us, to self-evaluate. While there is no justification whatsoever for this sort of act, if we do not look at ourselves closely and hate what is in ourselves, we cannot hate and combat it in others.
God hold each of the victims’ friends and families.
Last night I went to my weekly trivia night with my trivia team at Our House West, in Brighton, Mass. It’s really a college bar that attracts Boston College and Boston University students, but we’ve found that it has the best trivia in town. So it’s not that these details matter, but they provide context for the crowd.
It’s hard for us working folk to go out hard and get drunk on Monday. After all, we don’t have the option of a 2pm first class of the day or even class only two or three days a week. This changes the social dynamics so that it’s unlike a typical after work place. Trivia starts at 8:30 or 9 which gives ample time for those who choose to, to drink hefty amounts of liquid knowledge (it’s funny how childhood memories and facts are remembered more easily after a few drinks that enable you to stop over complicating the answers).
Unfortunately last night, all attempts by me to rationalize my presense at this bar were shattered. As I entered the men’s room to do as nature intended me to do after a few beers I made the conscious choice to head for the stall as on urinal was already in use. God forbid the man in the urinal should think I want to have sex with him if I had used the one next to him, which is a fact I learned after making a previous post about modesty in the men’s room. To my dismay someone had expelled the contents of their entire dinner, dessert, and whatever crap they had used to wash it all down. It was only Monday night and the bathroom was trashed as if it was the scene of some wild college party, yet one look around the bar would have you believing otherwise as trivia teams answered questions about Emily Dickinson, Shakespeare, The Galapagos Islands, the opposing team against the Dodgers when Hank Aaron made his debut, and the Oklahoma football player who was the two time recipient of the Butkiss award.
Perhaps all those studies are wrong and binge drinking is no longer a weekend activity but rather a full-time sport for some.
Why do we let people like Al Sharpton dictate how we are supposed to feel and what needs to be done about it? I was never a big Imus fan. I think he’s very opinionated and usually I didn’t agree with his opinions. What did I do about it? I didn’t listen to his show. What a concept! If you find something on the radio that’s objectionable, then change the channel. Do the same with television or any other form of entertainment. If you don’t like rap music, then don’t listen to it and don’t buy it. That’s how you show your support or lack thereof. We have freedom of speech without actually having the freedom to speak.
Did anyone question Mr. Sharpton about his ethics before heeding his suggestion calling for Imus’ head on the chopping block? I don’t think so. If they did they would have realized what a headline grabbing, bandwagon jumping, loud mouth idealist he is. Remember the Tawana Brawley case? He was quick to jump to her rescue when she accused white men of raping her. But, he never apologized or made any restitution when the truth came out and it was learned she was lying. He was a major contributor in destroying the lives of innocent men and never answered to anyone about it. Yet, when he decides to rant and drag someone else through the mud, we just let him. What, exactly kind of Reverend is he? And what kind of Reverend doesn’t include forgiveness in his repertoire?
I’m ashamed I didn’t do more than I did. Maybe it’s time more people stand up against hypocrisy before all of our rights are gone.
I used to go to Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts. I really like coffee and would drink it often. I now work from home and therefore don’t pass by coffee shops as my commute now consists of going from my bedroom to my home office.
Several years ago I used my credit card points to get a cheap espresso maker. I figured I would try my hand at a home brew and get the mechanics down before investing in the machinery that the big boys use…the baristas with flare and passion that you find in Starbucks and local coffee shops. I haven’t used the machine since I moved to the city and decided to give it a whirl.
At first it didn’t work. I felt defeated. Instead of accept defeat I decided to do the unmanly thing, and read the directions and of course my machine now works and makes excellent coffee, far better than the watery mixture that comes out of my filter machine. This has totally made my day and yet it’s such a simple win in my book.
I guess winning doesn’t have to be that complicated and good fortune no matter how big or small can make even a tough day a good one.
Did you ever notice while traveling on a plane people seem weird? Do you know what I am talking about?
People seem weird when getting off the plane. This is largely due to the fact that they are being thrust out into a massive airport terminal, are lost and confused and are trying to get their bearings. Another interesting phenomenom is when the plane didn’t originate from the city you are traveling to and instead is making a stopover. People coming off are dressed differently than you and to you seem out of place.
The opposite is true too. When getting off the plane, those crowding outside hoping to get on the plane one second earlier so that the plane doesn’t leave without them seem a bit off too. Whether it’s their clothes or anxiety about wishing they were in your shows, having safely landed with your trip over, or their impatience for getting home or to their destination they don’t seem right either.
When waiting to get on a plane you are never quite sure who will be getting on with you as you are surrounded by other gates and people are walking to and fro waiting for their flight to be ready for boarding. As you get on and sit down, the panic and confusion is obvious on people’s faces as you wait in your seat and wonder if you will be lucky to sit next to someone interesting or screwed and sit next to an idiot. Worse yet is sitting next to someone who is loud or restless on an overnight flight when you want to get some sleep.
The plane is an unnatural habitat for people that brings out character traits that are usually masked. I have the pleasure or misfortune depending on how you see it of traveling frequently and observe people often. What an interesting world we live in.
What do you notice?
So I went for this interview to be a team/personal assistant at a media company last week, and I was wondering how things turned out. I sent an email to ask, and the hiring manager I interviewed with called me late yesterday afternoon. She was really complimentary and said that she was impressed with my skills and my interview, and I definitely would have been shortlisted, if not for one thing: a lady whom she’d worked with (obviously well) 15 years ago has applied for the job (and was obviously getting it).
Yes, I was slightly angry, but I was polite and thanked her for taking the time to call me and let me know, and told her that of course she could keep my details on file.
A few things have struck me:
1) she didn’t have to tell me that she was impressed with me.
2) she didn’t have to tell me the truth, that she was going to hire someone she’d already worked with.
3) if I were working in media, I wouldn’t want to be a personal assistant 15 years from now.
Just going to prove, yet again, that there is no such things as ‘professionalism,’ or ‘the typical interview/interview process.’ Worst of all, there’s probably no ‘equal opportunity.’
Nepotism is great, when it works in your favour. Otherwise it’s a bit of a bitch.
I was just in Chicago for work and decided to stay over the weekend. One of my co-workers had his line of bags in a fashion show at a club called Transit in the west loop and so the team decided to show it’s support and attend. It was a great night out with one very unique experience.
I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t like bathroom attendants. I usually avoid them as I feel obligated to tip them for helping me with things I don’t need help with. I learned how to wash my hands when I was two and before I went out I put on my cologne. Are these people really necessary? As luck would have it when I was trying to leave the bathroom someone got in my way and I was forced to move toward the attendant and inevitably we made eye contact. Of course when you make eye contact you know you are screwed and I heard him utter a simple “hello”.
I replied back politely and instinctively mumbled “hi, how are you?”. The conversation ensued. I figured This man was black, about 60 to 65 and charming. I assumed he was a high school drop out who couldn’t make it in life. Why else would he be servicing rude and drunk men at 3am in a Chicago club? After about 10 minutes of conversation with this man I learned about the city and history and was amazed to find out he was a graduate of Dartmouth College, retired, and I gathered he was doing this job so as to be out with people. His name was Percy and he taught me a valuable lesson about making assumptions.
