Kumbaya? Please?

Marian Fontana is a Real New Yorker, through and through.  Believe me, this author/performer knows of what she speaks.  Here is her latest plea, in response to social media vitriol spewing throughout the Interwebs:

“An uncharacteristically serious post:

“Overwhelmed by the divisiveness of social media, I never post anything political. I have friends to the left, to the right and in between and know that WHATEVER I post would be like throwing meat into a pack of wolves.
It all makes me sad.

“We live in a place called The United States and yet, we have not been united since 9-11.
How sad that it took nearly 3,000 people to die in the worst terror attack on our country for us to finally hold hands and join together against extremism, terrorism and hate.

“It was a moment short lived.

“How quickly 9-11 became politicized and used as an excuse to attack countries, marginalize immigrants and achieve personal power.

“The ripple effect of 9-11 continues as Vets return home injured and traumatized, Muslims are discriminated against and firefighters die of 9-11 related cancers.

“So, as this endless stream of negativity fills my newsfeed , I will choose to remember how so many of you reached out to my son and I after Dave died. I will recall that unique moment in history where the best of humanity was revealed and I will hold out hope that in spite of our differences and the issues that divide us that we have the capacity to be the United States.”

Right on, Marian!  (FYI, the photo here was taken on Isham Street, just west of Broadway, in Inwood, NY.  The cross is made of structural material from the World Trade Center.) Crucifix Inwood

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Paris of the Mind

So much has happened since my last post in August of 2015.  The U.S. presidential race has gone from disappointing, to outlandish, to disgusting.  Racism has taken center stage, along with income disparity.  And with racism has come xenophobia.

Around the world, humankind has reverted to a pagan-era tribalism.  We cower in our caves, afraid of “The Other” — that about whom we know little, other than that they “aren’t like us.”

Paris of the Mind

Paris of the Mind

Fanning the flames are nihilistic maniacs, without regard to the blessing of life.

Paris happened, since my last post.

Domestic mass murders have happened.  Here, it still remains easier to obtain a firearm in Arizona, than it is to vote in a primary election.

Now, Brussels has happened.

These free shipping viagra conditions make it more difficult to overcome the most. All these companies are seeking to get your viagra generika business, even if it is by accident, with the help of credit card. Therefore whenever your impotency affected body wants to avail back its stamina and strength you can impute this medicament in order to get back your http://new.castillodeprincesas.com/directorio/seccion/alquiler/?wpbdp_sort=field-1 discount cialis sexual potential. With Kamagra you sildenafil buy become calmer and surer about your sexual abilities. I’ve seen the posters: “Je suis sick of this s***.”  Me too.  Because our simple human minds search for easy solutions to complex geopolitical problems.

There are those who point fingers at the other party.  Then, there are those who point fingers at the other generation.  The other country.  The other religion.

What to blame?  Easy.  It’s humankind’s fault.  We have fouled ourselves with hatred, stupidity, greed, since time immemorial. We have smart phones, but we are dumb.  We do not think.  We do not WANT to think.  And so we get snookered by crooked politicians and cut-throat business people.  And that makes us madder still.

So we lash out again, like a whining drunken toddler, without focus, without a plan.  The adults in the room, those with measured and rational answers, are derided as “elites.”

In the Paris of the Mind, innocents die at dinner, couples perish at concerts, kids cry for their lost parents.  How long will this go on?  When will it come to Real New Yorkers (again)?

Maybe the better question is: when will humans use the gift of reason we are blessed with, but rarely use?