I Am The Problem
I’m not articulate or educated enough to comment on the sad state of the world. But when I read an article about how North Korea is sending its people to labor camps for not “genuinely” mourning the death of Kim Jong Il, I hit “Like.” Not because I like the story, but so that my friends on Facebook will see it and be as outraged as I am for a few minutes. By dinner time, I’ll be struggling to remember what I was so upset about.
After dinner, I’ll watch a documentary about how wasteful our society is and how we could feed every starving person in Haiti with the food we throw out each year. The whole time, I’ll be thinking of that Portlandia sketch about dumpster divers and the Haitians will seem like they’re on another planet, far beyond my reach. When the film ends, I’ll tell my wife that we should try and use up what we have in the fridge before we go to the grocery store again. Then I’ll remember we’re out of almond milk.
I’ll turn on the local news. Mitt Romney is coming to speak at the convention center across from my apartment and there’s some speculation as to whether or not the “Occupy Palm Beach” protestors might make an appearance. “They’re the ones camped out where I run along Flagler,” I’ll think. “I haven’t been running in forever…” I’ll set the alarm for an hour earlier than normal and put my shoes on the floor next to the bed.
The next morning as I run, I’ll pass a dozen men fishing off the Royal Park bridge. Whatever they catch will undoubtedly be their dinner that evening. I’ll smile and nod when one of them holds off from casting so I can get by. For the next half-mile I’ll think about how I should’ve asked him if anything’s biting today. Then my focus will shift to a slow, acoustic rendition of “Rain King” that’s coming through my headphones. “How did this get on my running mix? NEXT.”
At breakfast, I’ll thumb through the top stories on an iPad news app and find an article on Netflix that I disagree with. I’ll write an exhaustive blog entry saying as much and post a link to it on Facebook. In doing so, I will see the link I shared yesterday about how North Korea is sending its people to labor camps for not “genuinely” mourning the death of Kim Jong Il.
No one has “Liked” the post or commented on it. “It might not even be true” I’ll think as I delete it from my timeline.