I have to say that I'm finding the debate about reforming health care troublesome. People are saying the stupidest things. And it's not even a matter of what people want in the bill -- it's a matter of what is actually supposed to be in the bill. Coverage for illegal immigrants? As Obama said last night -- no, its not in my bill. "Death panels"? Talking to your doctor about end of life planning isn't like asking him or her to kill you if you become sick. Abortion coverage? Well, that's not totally clear -- and should be the subject of concern and conversation. Something might actually come of that.
But generally, the kind of mob moronics cropping up all over America doesn't give you much faith in the democratic process. Do you truly want South Carolina's Joe Wilson to be your health care proxy?
jeudi, septembre 10, 2009
lundi, septembre 07, 2009
Hall of Mirrors
It is not fun when someone rips you to shreds, even if it's done efficiently and coldly in virtual reality.
According to this acquaintance, I'm a woman who puts various folks in "baskets" based on their potential usefulness to me.
Of course, on one level, it meant absolutely nothing -- the person hadn't met me more than once. OR maybe it meant that I had hurt their feelings, and they were lashing out at me the only way they knew how. Or perhaps it meant I had narrowly avoided becoming friends with someone with a cruel streak.
After I got the email this morning, I sat at the computer, feeling nauseated. So they didn't truly know me. Yet I had to ask myself if perhaps there was not a tiny truth somewhere in the spite. The truth that I've become jaded and quick to protect myself in the face of potential complexity or rejection. The truth that I'm stressed and tired by drama at home, and don't have a lot to give my friends right now.
Having said all of that, I'm not sure that any of it is completely accurate. Surprised to have evoked that kind of personal attack from a person I had seen as thoughtful and gentle, I asked myself: would I have launched poisoned arrows like that if someone had hurt my pride?
God help me, I hope not.
According to this acquaintance, I'm a woman who puts various folks in "baskets" based on their potential usefulness to me.
Of course, on one level, it meant absolutely nothing -- the person hadn't met me more than once. OR maybe it meant that I had hurt their feelings, and they were lashing out at me the only way they knew how. Or perhaps it meant I had narrowly avoided becoming friends with someone with a cruel streak.
After I got the email this morning, I sat at the computer, feeling nauseated. So they didn't truly know me. Yet I had to ask myself if perhaps there was not a tiny truth somewhere in the spite. The truth that I've become jaded and quick to protect myself in the face of potential complexity or rejection. The truth that I'm stressed and tired by drama at home, and don't have a lot to give my friends right now.
Having said all of that, I'm not sure that any of it is completely accurate. Surprised to have evoked that kind of personal attack from a person I had seen as thoughtful and gentle, I asked myself: would I have launched poisoned arrows like that if someone had hurt my pride?
God help me, I hope not.
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