"No man is an Iland, intire of itselfe;
Every man is a peece of the Continent,
A part of the maine; if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea,
Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were,
As well as if a Manor of thy friends or of thine owne were;
Any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankinde;
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee."
-John Donne ,Meditation XVIIl. Devotions upon Emergent Occasions
It was a day like every other . The sun rose like it always does, people woke up,went to work,students went to school ,kids played football in the parking lot..
And robins chirped merrily while jumping between the branches..
It was the perfect day to glitter and be gay.
Except for the fact that 47 people died in a bombing in some obscure city in some obscure country.
I stopped at the channel to scan the newsflash, which, by the way, was not a newsflash at all. Death became a common occurrence nowadays; so much that death bills became the usual introduction on the News.
"47 casualties have been reported in a bombing in the city of X. More details to follow. In other news, actress XX's newborn attracts the attention of the press being the most fashionable child in Hollywood."
There was a moment of reflection. ..i don't usually think about such things ; but just realizing that these two pieces of news were not at least separated by a moment of silence in memory of the deceased ,instigated a very curious happening. I felt like i slipped from the top of a high building, one too high it takes several days to fall..and then I hit the bottom. I sure took my time falling, and I severely crashed to the ground to my awakening :
I didn't even flinch.
I was not affected.
I didn't even stop to examine the magnitude of that figure, the number of souls that left this world at the same time, and left their houses without putting the probability of getting killed for no reason in their minds, the number of souls that left and to which was dedicated no respectful amount of time to mourn, as the reporter didn't even change her tone while shifting to the next report, and as the earth kept rotating, and the rest of the human population breathing, walking, talking gaily and LIVING in total oblivion.
It dawned upon me, the truth. The ugly truth.
I'm, we are, monsters of the most horrid type: humans.
You know, what's horrid about humans is that they are civilized. We are dexterous in our brutality, and audaciously philosophical in our atrocity.
We can utilize our utmost faculties to devise a killing machine..while hideously contrasting that by proclaiming vain banners of human rights and equality ; including equality in the right to LIVE , ironically.
Truth is, unless it's of a close relation, death of another human does not affect us at all. No matter how courteous or pretentious we are, it does not produce in us the genuine feelings of grief that translate into an honest "I'm sorry for your loss".
'tell you what, sir Donne, every man's death doesn't affect me, because i'm not involved in mankind.
Batushka, I'm afraid that you would be very disappointed to see that your romantic words have been basely abused as slogans of empty ideas of peace and brotherhood. There was never a bell that tolled in people's hearts at the demise of a fellow human being.
And robins chirped merrily while jumping between the branches..
It was the perfect day to glitter and be gay.
Except for the fact that 47 people died in a bombing in some obscure city in some obscure country.
I stopped at the channel to scan the newsflash, which, by the way, was not a newsflash at all. Death became a common occurrence nowadays; so much that death bills became the usual introduction on the News.
"47 casualties have been reported in a bombing in the city of X. More details to follow. In other news, actress XX's newborn attracts the attention of the press being the most fashionable child in Hollywood."
There was a moment of reflection. ..i don't usually think about such things ; but just realizing that these two pieces of news were not at least separated by a moment of silence in memory of the deceased ,instigated a very curious happening. I felt like i slipped from the top of a high building, one too high it takes several days to fall..and then I hit the bottom. I sure took my time falling, and I severely crashed to the ground to my awakening :
I didn't even flinch.
I was not affected.
I didn't even stop to examine the magnitude of that figure, the number of souls that left this world at the same time, and left their houses without putting the probability of getting killed for no reason in their minds, the number of souls that left and to which was dedicated no respectful amount of time to mourn, as the reporter didn't even change her tone while shifting to the next report, and as the earth kept rotating, and the rest of the human population breathing, walking, talking gaily and LIVING in total oblivion.
It dawned upon me, the truth. The ugly truth.
I'm, we are, monsters of the most horrid type: humans.
You know, what's horrid about humans is that they are civilized. We are dexterous in our brutality, and audaciously philosophical in our atrocity.
We can utilize our utmost faculties to devise a killing machine..while hideously contrasting that by proclaiming vain banners of human rights and equality ; including equality in the right to LIVE , ironically.
Truth is, unless it's of a close relation, death of another human does not affect us at all. No matter how courteous or pretentious we are, it does not produce in us the genuine feelings of grief that translate into an honest "I'm sorry for your loss".
'tell you what, sir Donne, every man's death doesn't affect me, because i'm not involved in mankind.
Batushka, I'm afraid that you would be very disappointed to see that your romantic words have been basely abused as slogans of empty ideas of peace and brotherhood. There was never a bell that tolled in people's hearts at the demise of a fellow human being.
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