I've been thinking about the space shuttle. I vaguely remember when the Challenger blew up. I was only three at the time, so I don't think it was a big deal to me. But I can remember not being able to watch my usual television shows because the news kept breaking in all of the time. And, of course, I thought it was sad that people died. It didn't upset me much though, because, well, when you're three, these things tend to not. I'm not all torn up over the Columbia either. A lot of folks are acting like the fact that a couple of astronauts died is the most shocking story to hit since 9/11. Well it's tragic and terrible. But going into space is risky business. These people knew that when they signed up for the job. I'm not saying that the knowledge of risk minimizes their death. But the knowledge of the risk does take the edge off the shock. I always find it sad when human beings die. But it's hard to work yourself up about the death of a couple of astronauts, when you know perfectly well that thousands and thousands of people who weren't taking any risks at all, died the same day for far less noble reasons. I may be callous. September 11th might have contributed to the fact. Reading about the Holocaust and the Gulag Archipelago might have contributed to it too. But while I can feel a general sense of pity for family members of people killed, I can't recognize any terrific shock and sadness in myself. It it were my mother or father, certainly I'd feel it a tinge more and that's why I can feel pity. But it isn't my mother or father, and that's why I'm pretty calm regarding the entire matter.
15 minutes left to study my German and eat breakfast. Geez, I'm ahead of the game these days.
posted by Sarie @
10:47 AM
>Comments: 0
