Death may tire you

Posted on December 17, 2012

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A tragedy is a tragedy, period. It does not matter if the people whose life is barbarically stolen are American, Italian, African or Japanese.  There are no secondary deaths or at least there shouldn’t be any but we are hypocrite and selective beyond imagination and our racism knows no limit; therefore, if are  American children who die (don’t get me wrong, I am heartbroken and shocked for this atrocity too), the whole world stops but I have never seen, read, listened or witnessed such common pain and sympathy for  humans born in countries affected by poverty, diseased and wars- children deprived by their childhood,  whose aim is to survive one more day despite bombs, tanks, weapons, cruelty, lack of water, food, hygiene prerogatives and moral dignity. And I ask myself: why? Is it because we are so used to be acknowledged every day about such situations that we are not able to feel anything anymore? Can we become apathetic in front of continuous dramas?  Is it only when a tragedy is totally unexpected that we can reflect on it, feel sorry and get angry against injustices? There are injustices every day, to me it looks like people select the most suitable one for their feelings, as they would chose a TV Show: I am tired of African children who die because of starvation, today I want to cry over some victims of a nuclear explosion.  The day after some kids shot in a school will deserve all my attention.
By reading the news today, at least 17 people were killed in Pakistan, landmines killed about  nine girls in Afghanistan, attacks in Iraq killed almost fifty civilians  and guess what? People still die in Syria , Palestine and Israel -and anywhere else social conflicts exterminate whole populations -even when medias do not talk about it. Yet, the main topic today is still the Connecticut School massacre.
Who is to blame? Our reprehensible boredom that affect any kind of  emotion of ours? Or the speed at which media spread news that renders us immune to those tragedies that do not know any end?  Is the amount of information the overwhelms us and constrains us to be selective?
Maybe, or maybe we are simply such selfish and limited  that even unnatural deaths-the ones that should shock us, make our stomach churn, our voice scream loud in protest, our soul bid farewell, too overwhelmed by mourn, our feelings withdraw as the quest of justice takes all the space- end up boring us.

 

 

 

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