Much like the distraction above, Spring of 2012 has bloomed, blossomed, and opened up with the world's greatest tactic, for people who dare to actually participate in "boring ol' global gov't stuff". I fondly remember knowing a young girl from Africa, with a massive scar on her face, and an unusual story behind it. Mind you, a discovery made in grade school finally finds itself, fifteen years later, posted all over my now retired timeline, and scarcely updated wall. This year, the U.S. Government reached into its bag of luxurious raffle terrorist tickets and finally pulled out... ( drum roll please )... UGANDAAAAAAAAA, as if we've ever cared about what goes on in Africa, *cough, Ken Saro Wiwa, cough. One fine Tuesday morning, I logged in to the sight of a beautiful collage of videos, notes, pictures, pages, and more, that in some manner or another, read "Kony 2012". Then a week passed, a fundraiser got started, and then... nothing. Off subject, what ever happened to that oil spill in Florida ( hm )? Am I the only one that feels like the Hell that exists on Earth has been desensitized by social networks and other media "fan bases", only to become another tweet or profile picture?... Wish we could hire some Forty5th crickets. Recently discussed and exploited, the Trayvon Martin trial. Here is a case doused heavily in so much racial turmoil, that they've literally convinced you that it's sane and legal to kill people, as long as they're the same color and creed. Now out of good heart, people around the country gathered together to march in the spirit of a missed and loved young man, and against the bigotry that stands so boldly in front of it. Did they gather in unity? Maybe in Florida, but as of Indianapolis; a lady got shoved, almost to the ground, by a "well-respected" elder, christian pastor throws a fit because, "Man, they don't EVER say my chants!", and an overly excited, overly dehydrated poet spits his heart out ( among other things ) about the battle of the sexes. A crowd still singing proudly, "We shall overcome... one of these days", is all it took for a small circle of sincerely concerned citizens to ask themselves, "Why are we even out here?" Why did it take two months for everyone to even care that it happened? And why wasn't the random Canal Bridge Shooter's story dissipate and disappear? Most of the time, when a person walks into a room and is bombarded with ten million different stories at one time, or one after another, one grows suspicious. Especially, when one story seemingly makes the previous one "irrelevant". Or maybe throwing dirt on top of more dirt is what makes it fertilizer. Maybe we're caught up in some much theoretically conspired Jambalaya, we can't find the small pocket of moral oxygen to get back to what really matters. And don't ask me, I'm distracted too. The point is, we can't keep circulating the same ideas to feel like we're making the world a better place by tweeting and "status-ing" peoples' deaths and misfortunes. A revolution might have changed its mind about television, but a personal takes so much more than Face Book updates. If you're going to care about anything, care in person.
