No reason

In the middle of my evening, while making some supper, I ran into a LIFE 9/11 slideshow of the most powerful images of that incredible day.  Clicking through the images led me to feel sad and awed, frustrated and impressed... angry and hateful.  I suppose that is natural.  The obvious question comes to mind:  How could other human beings hate so much to be able to commandeer planes and fly them into buildings full of people?

Then I realized I put the word hate in there because I hated them for doing it.  Maybe they they were doing it for reasons they felt were noble.  Or maybe they did hate.  Regardless, I find myself believing that with the right amount of time, and the right (i.e. wrong) circumstances and environment, I could eventually do something just as treacherous and evil, hate having nothing to do with it.

I feel pretty confident that won't happen.  But honestly, I'm curious about it.  How long would it take for me to change?  Is it even a change—or more of a gradual deterioration?  Could I become that person in the environment I'm currently in, perhaps by intentionally focusing on changing my ideas and thoughts?  I bet it could happen quickly, especially if circumstances were to suddenly change.

I've heard the opposite is true, too.  That I could become a better person.  But I've seen that that kind of change in myself can't happen suddenly, no matter what.  I am more naturally evil than I am good, because I am alive to survive.

For the next few weeks I'm sure I'll see and hear a lot more about September 11—a decade later.  It is the closest thing I relate to "being a part of history" that I have in my life.  I saw that happening on TV.  I lived through the political and economical effects of it.  Now I see the visual memories of it.

(Screen capture of one of the gallery's photos)

What are the decadal memories of me?  Do clear mental images also tip the scales toward hatred and anger?

Yes.  Unfortunately, yes...  Cue political and economical effects.

Geoffrey

The cat seems lonely.  She hasn't been sleeping in her basket by the fireplace much the past couple days.  This afternoon I couldn't find her on the ground floor in any of her usual spots.  I went upstairs and turned the hall light on to find her sprawled out next to the office door.  This evening, she came and sat behind me on top of the chair I was sitting in.

Sometimes I pretend like the cat is just a little bit human.  Like maybe she secretly wants me keep her company on the floor in the dark upstairs hallway, or maybe she thinks we're buddies when I give her my ice cream bowl to lick when I'm done.  Or like when she comes over and looks at me and then hops up onto my lap—surely that means we're friends, that we're looking out for each other.  I like to think her expressions are human expressions, too.  Those thoughtful gazes and all.  But then when she yawns and avoids eye contact and walks away... I have to console myself that she doesn't really hate me.

I like Geoffrey the cat.  She is very silly, but sweet.

Mayor Bykesalot

In light of all the seriousness these days, I thought I'd add a little more and emphasize that it's illegal to park your car in the bike lane.  Especially in Lithuania.  The closing remarks of the broadcaster are the best part.

Here's a photo caption from telegraph.co.uk: 

"This is the incredible moment a frustrated mayor drove an armoured vehicle over a Mercedes-Benz S-Class parked in a cycle lane. Arturas Zuokas became infuriated with motorists parking their luxury cars illegally around the Lithuanian capital of Vilnius. So the 43-year-old politician drove over this Merc in a Russian tank to set an example. The mayor said: "I’ve had enough of these drivers parking their luxury cars on bike lanes and pedestrian crossings. This tank is a good tool to solve the problem of parking in the wrong place." We think it was probably a set-up, but we certainly wouldn't take a chance by parking illegally in Vilnius."