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Are you okay? Do you need some help?
Aug. 16th, 2006 05:25 pmOH MY GOD IT IS THE INTERNET. ON MY COMPUTER.
I've been gone because between the outages on my pirated connection and the weirdnesses of my laptop -- which I am praying was just kind of, you know, tired last week, and not getting ready for some kind of catastrophic hardware failure -- I've not had more than a few minutes at a time online for almost a week now. It is so good to be back.
Not least because it's been an astonishingly bad 24 hours. Starting, I guess, last night when I and my cat Rachel conspired in some sort of horrific ballet (the details of which I will probably never remember exactly) to knock a hot iron on top of my pitifully old (sleeping) dog Flannery. She's a little singed as to tail-fur, and not burned at all as to skin, no broken bones, no concussions; but every time I think about how much worse it could have been I feel literally sick to my stomach.
And then I saw a fawn get hit by a car today, on one of the country backroads which surround my parents' neighborhood. We were a few hundred yards behind the car that hit it, which didn't, as far as I could tell, slow down, and I made my mother stop the car as we drove up to it (I was totally prepared to force my mother to drive a bloody and broken wild animal to the nearest vet). There were two other deer -- a doe and another fawn -- disappearing into the woods as I opened my car door, and the fawn who was hit was already dead by the time I got out (I'll spare you the details, but it certainly did not die instantly), and we picked it up by the hooves and carried it to the side of the road, and I discovered how light fawns are, and three cars stopped to see what was going on, if they could help, if we were all right since it was pretty obvious that fawn was not, and I was shaky but all right until we were in the car again, wiping our bloody hands on fast-food napkins, and for some reason my mother started talking about this time her uncle hit a mother dog in his car and ended up having to stop when she realized I was sobbing too hard to listen.
It all was so horrible that I haven't stopped thinking about it for more than a few minutes at a stretch since it happened; but you know what kills me most about today? It's not that the fawn was hit. We drive big scary machines too fast and sometimes we get hurt in them, and sometimes we hurt others in them, and that is sometimes the price of driving around in big scary machines, and it's awful but it does sometimes happen. It's not that the hit-and-run driver didn't stop, even; I do think this driver was a TOTAL MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLE for not stopping, but it's obviously possible the driver was in shock, or scared, and so I'd like to think that TOTAL MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLE has some excuse for behaving the way s/he did. The thing that really kills me is that I'm pretty sure those three cars who stopped to see if we needed help would absolutely not have stopped if we hadn't stopped first, and I feel sick and cynical and homicidally angry at myself and at them for thinking it, and I have no proof but I think it is nonetheless true.
What is wrong with us that we don't stop? What is wrong with people who'll only consider helping if someone else steps up to help first? I remarked to someone the other day that I feel that it's important that we remember always that we all live in the same world together; I feel strongly about this and I don't really understand why we so often need to be reminded. Why do we resist so hard?
I am in a completely misanthropic mood today; it's one of those very rare days where I think as I look at people, my God, you had better not do anything even remotely rude or meanspirited or I will find out where you live and fill your backyard with poisonous spiders. And I would like for you to do me big favor and remind me that we are not so disgusting as a species as all that, really, okay?
Tell me this: when was the last time someone did something nice for you, charmed you, made you happy in some way, however small?
I've been gone because between the outages on my pirated connection and the weirdnesses of my laptop -- which I am praying was just kind of, you know, tired last week, and not getting ready for some kind of catastrophic hardware failure -- I've not had more than a few minutes at a time online for almost a week now. It is so good to be back.
Not least because it's been an astonishingly bad 24 hours. Starting, I guess, last night when I and my cat Rachel conspired in some sort of horrific ballet (the details of which I will probably never remember exactly) to knock a hot iron on top of my pitifully old (sleeping) dog Flannery. She's a little singed as to tail-fur, and not burned at all as to skin, no broken bones, no concussions; but every time I think about how much worse it could have been I feel literally sick to my stomach.
And then I saw a fawn get hit by a car today, on one of the country backroads which surround my parents' neighborhood. We were a few hundred yards behind the car that hit it, which didn't, as far as I could tell, slow down, and I made my mother stop the car as we drove up to it (I was totally prepared to force my mother to drive a bloody and broken wild animal to the nearest vet). There were two other deer -- a doe and another fawn -- disappearing into the woods as I opened my car door, and the fawn who was hit was already dead by the time I got out (I'll spare you the details, but it certainly did not die instantly), and we picked it up by the hooves and carried it to the side of the road, and I discovered how light fawns are, and three cars stopped to see what was going on, if they could help, if we were all right since it was pretty obvious that fawn was not, and I was shaky but all right until we were in the car again, wiping our bloody hands on fast-food napkins, and for some reason my mother started talking about this time her uncle hit a mother dog in his car and ended up having to stop when she realized I was sobbing too hard to listen.
It all was so horrible that I haven't stopped thinking about it for more than a few minutes at a stretch since it happened; but you know what kills me most about today? It's not that the fawn was hit. We drive big scary machines too fast and sometimes we get hurt in them, and sometimes we hurt others in them, and that is sometimes the price of driving around in big scary machines, and it's awful but it does sometimes happen. It's not that the hit-and-run driver didn't stop, even; I do think this driver was a TOTAL MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLE for not stopping, but it's obviously possible the driver was in shock, or scared, and so I'd like to think that TOTAL MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLE has some excuse for behaving the way s/he did. The thing that really kills me is that I'm pretty sure those three cars who stopped to see if we needed help would absolutely not have stopped if we hadn't stopped first, and I feel sick and cynical and homicidally angry at myself and at them for thinking it, and I have no proof but I think it is nonetheless true.
What is wrong with us that we don't stop? What is wrong with people who'll only consider helping if someone else steps up to help first? I remarked to someone the other day that I feel that it's important that we remember always that we all live in the same world together; I feel strongly about this and I don't really understand why we so often need to be reminded. Why do we resist so hard?
I am in a completely misanthropic mood today; it's one of those very rare days where I think as I look at people, my God, you had better not do anything even remotely rude or meanspirited or I will find out where you live and fill your backyard with poisonous spiders. And I would like for you to do me big favor and remind me that we are not so disgusting as a species as all that, really, okay?
Tell me this: when was the last time someone did something nice for you, charmed you, made you happy in some way, however small?
