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mallorys_cameraBenazir Bhutto assassinated…
About an hour and a half ago.
Given that it was a suicide bombing, you have to assume Al-Qaeda was behind it. Although maybe not. Who knows to what lengths Musharraf would go to avoid elections? Now he can impose martial law in perpetuo.
Don't you wish Pakistan didn't have nuclear weapons? I know I do!
And aren't you hoping and praying – even the agnostics and atheists among us – that this is not the World War III equivalent of Archduke Franz Ferdinand's death? I know I am!
And I'm doing the usual crazy-old-lady-talking-to-her-coffee-cup muttering about what crap these dueling instant news relays are. Did I really need to become obsessed with this first thing in the morning? It's not as though I can actually do anything about it.
More and more I'm starting to think that at least half of what's wrong with our culture can be traced back to the absence of any kind of refractory period between news cycles. There is no time to process incoming data in any meaningful fashion. One is always being bombarded with fresh data. This constant rat-a-tat-tat assault of information makes it difficult to separate out the relevant from the irrelevant.
In other news much boring, book-keeping type stuff needs to be done for the Little Store and I continue to poke around sullenly, feeling hugely sorry for myself, seeing slights where I'm sure none are intended. I am imagining the great Hall of Karma, a kind of celestial Student Union, where the lives of various individuals function as classroom curricula. A bunch of excited souls are gathered round some computer printouts taped to the wall –
"Oh, look! I got Paris Hilton this reincarnation!"
Squeals of happiness.
"And I got Uma Thurman!"
More squeals.
"Oh, no. I got… DiLucchio."
Commiserative silence.
The plus side to moods like this is that I end up cleaning the bathrooms. Scrubbing toilets soothes my huffy soul somehow.
About an hour and a half ago.
Given that it was a suicide bombing, you have to assume Al-Qaeda was behind it. Although maybe not. Who knows to what lengths Musharraf would go to avoid elections? Now he can impose martial law in perpetuo.
Don't you wish Pakistan didn't have nuclear weapons? I know I do!
And aren't you hoping and praying – even the agnostics and atheists among us – that this is not the World War III equivalent of Archduke Franz Ferdinand's death? I know I am!
And I'm doing the usual crazy-old-lady-talking-to-her-coffee-cup muttering about what crap these dueling instant news relays are. Did I really need to become obsessed with this first thing in the morning? It's not as though I can actually do anything about it.
More and more I'm starting to think that at least half of what's wrong with our culture can be traced back to the absence of any kind of refractory period between news cycles. There is no time to process incoming data in any meaningful fashion. One is always being bombarded with fresh data. This constant rat-a-tat-tat assault of information makes it difficult to separate out the relevant from the irrelevant.
In other news much boring, book-keeping type stuff needs to be done for the Little Store and I continue to poke around sullenly, feeling hugely sorry for myself, seeing slights where I'm sure none are intended. I am imagining the great Hall of Karma, a kind of celestial Student Union, where the lives of various individuals function as classroom curricula. A bunch of excited souls are gathered round some computer printouts taped to the wall –
"Oh, look! I got Paris Hilton this reincarnation!"
Squeals of happiness.
"And I got Uma Thurman!"
More squeals.
"Oh, no. I got… DiLucchio."
Commiserative silence.
The plus side to moods like this is that I end up cleaning the bathrooms. Scrubbing toilets soothes my huffy soul somehow.
