The joke's on us, though, because the world ended last week. Last Friday. At least, the world ended for 27 families in Connecticut. And the ripple effect has knocked the wind out of me.
I don't know what to say about the Sandy Hook shooting, except that it is unthinkably awful and unbearably sad. As a self-labeled curmudgeon, I can be kind of a misanthrope. I don't believe that all people are inherently good. I expect them to lie, cheat, and steal; to make offensive jokes; to merge lanes without signaling; to clip their nails on the subway. But this... this makes the world seem unlivable. This makes me want to defect from the human race. I've been feeling extra pessimistic this past week. Part of me wonders how I could have possibly brought a child into this kind of world, which is not only warming itself to death but also driving its citizens to murder each other in increasingly horrific ways, at increasingly young ages.
But there's no reset button. John Cusack does not (spoiler alert!) swoop in at the end to save us... and even if he did, kickboxing--sport of the future!--isn't enough to protect us from the rising oceans, the melting ice caps, the deranged gunmen. The only choice is to cling to the hope that things can and will get better. That hearts--and laws--will change, and that we'll all start taking better care of ourselves, each other, and our earth.
To that end, I'm trying.
I hope you are, too.
Wow, is this the most depressing way to wish you happy holidays, or what? I'm like Eeyore with a UTI. I'll be back next week with more Christmas cheer.