So it goes

So it goes. That was how Kurt Vonnegut would end his narration of an event, horrifying or not. His words came to mind when a mentally deranged student executed 32 people at Virginia Tech. So it goes. The accused killer, Seung Hui Cho, had sent video clips to media organizations, spitting out self-pity, revealing just how unhinged his mind was. He had coping problems. He went insane. He killed people. So it goes. After emptying out his guns on people, he apparently shot himself in the head, obliterating his face. So it goes.

"That there are such devices as firearms, as easy to operate as cigarette lighters and as cheap as toasters, capable at anybody' s whim of killing Father or Fats or Abraham Lincoln or John Lennon or Martin Luther King, Jr., or a woman pushing a baby carriage, should be proof enough for anybody that, to quote the old science fiction writer Kilgore Trout, 'being alive is a crock of shit'," Vonnegut wrote. I'd like to think that life is better than that. I think that was his point–that life should be better than that.

But we now have devices that could wipe us out of existence–that with a push of the button enable us to commit mass hara-kiri. Are we really that surprised by the insanity around us? Perhaps not. But the grief is real. Perhaps we mourn not only for the dead, but for the living as well. So it goes.       

Let the hungry feed themselves

Look at how they treat their neighbors! They lock them behind bars, they spit at their color, they give them crumbs. Look at their policies! They have effectively criminalized poverty, creating one set of laws for themselves, and another for their slaves. And look closer, are they not in church, hearing the sermon, reading the Bible, taking the communion? Aha, they profess to be followers of Christ! But what did Christ say about how to treat the poor? Now look at how they treat the vulnerable, and tell me, I pray, are these the followers of Christ or am I misreading my Bible?–R.D. Alfredo

People can be so ruthless in their treatment of their neighbor and still manage to be at church every Sunday, with a clear conscience, of course.

It’s warm and sunny

The door beckoned me to step outside. The light was warm, inviting. I adjusted my eyes and saw bees circling yellow flowers that had blossomed over the weekend. For a few days each year, just when the full summer is approaching, it is sunny yet breezy and cool. This is the kind of weather that attracts thousands of people to hit the road and come here.

The girl of my life had prepared oranges and apples, cutting them into little pieces, and glasses of grape juice. It was the perfect weather, and the perfect morning.

She called me in and said, “I wish mama were here, eating what we are eating.”

I almost choked on the apple. Here in the land of plenty I think of the kin that we have left behind. The weather was perfect, breakfast was sumptuous. But is there breakfast as sumptuous? Is there morning as lovely? Wouldn’t it be nice if my mother were here, sharing the food with us?