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Archive for October 12th, 2007

:::whines:::

will_l.jpg

http://popwatch.ew.com/popwatch/index.html#a0040097780

apparently I missed Will Arnett on 30 Rock last night as I was watching a very over-the-top Ugly Betty (that Henry is so adorable, he might be the only reason I keep watching the show).

Sad 😦 Though I feel awful saying that I’m sad about this a post above the Iraq story. I feel really sad about that if it helps. Which it doesn’t. I’m going to go now.

photo courtesy of wherever EW.com got it.

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U.S. Attack Kills 34, 15 Civilians (Including 9 Children)

“We regret that civilians are hurt or killed while coalition forces search to rid Iraq of terrorism,” said Maj. Brad Leighton, a spokesman for American forces in Iraq, in reference to the deadly airstrike on Thursday. “These terrorists chose to deliberately place innocent Iraqi women and children in danger by their actions and presence.”

So we apparently chose to kill those innocent women and children to prove what an awful, terroristic thing that is. 9 children. That is just…I don’t even have the words to express how sad and angry that makes me. What is so scary about this news is that it isn’t like we’ve ONLY killed 9 children or 15 civilians in the past four and a half years in Iraq. I know this is war and there will be innocent lives lost, but there wasn’t another way to try to get to these rebel leaders than doing an airstrike? Did we know that we were going to kill women and children? Al Qaeda in Mesopotamia, as well as many other groups, may be using women and children, innocent civilians, as human targets but does that really mean that the consequence of that is that these people die? Here comes my naive side, but why can’t there be another way?

The longer this war goes on, the more innocent blood is going to end up on our hands. To know we’re responsible for so many lives ruined. It is just so hard to reconcile that.

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Wow, there is a lot of news to comment on today, we’ll see if I get to it all. First up, something more personal: my bus trip to work.

There must be something in the air today because there were an unusually high number of weirdos on my morning commute. Not the real big creepy ones, but just plain, ordinary weird people doing very weird things. I first get onto the #66 and have to stand right beside this girl who was curling her eyelashes. Now, I’ve seen people do makeup on the bus (though that is a really risky thing to do), but curling eyelashes? Really? You can’t wait to get to work/school to do that? I eventually get to sit down and the guy in front of me is getting more and more openly irritated that there are other people on the bus. He was sitting on the outside seat, taking up most of the aisle, and got super annoyed if anyone tried to pass him which everyone did as the bus was very very crowded. This crowded bus thing is getting worse as the weather gets colder. Bigger jackets and bigger bags. Anyway, he makes a huge deal about getting off the bus. And then, coming from Harvard to work, this older woman gets on. She clearly has no balance, so she sits right away. But then, she gets up just as we are turning a corner and proceeds to fall on like three people as she continually switches seats and then talks to herself once she’s done.

I didn’t see clicky lady or Keith (not technically a weirdo), but just some very odd behavior. Got me to thinking. What if I’m one of the weirdos to someone else? I go to work at roughly the same time so I recognize a lot of the people on the bus. Stands to reason that some of them recognize me. I have names for all of them, I wonder what name they have chosen for me? It could be “scowly girl” as my natural expression is one of contempt for everything and everyone. It could be “girl who almost flies through the front windshield when the bus stops at her destination…every morning” (I even hurt my ankle stopping myself this morning). “bad hair girl” is another possibility. I’m the type of person who would prefer to be not recognized at all, so hopefully all this is in my head. But does anyone else ever wonder if, through all the complaining we do about the crazies in this city, that you might be one of them?

And then the age old question: Is it better to know if you are?

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