Wednesday, January 07, 2015

Drowning Out the Violence

I was overwhelmed this morning to see reports of another mass killing, this time in France.   And why?

I know why those men claim they did it, in defense of "their prophet" but I don't buy it for a second.

I am alone here and when I see news like that, I haven't the sense to turn it off and do something else.   It plays on my mind over and over, what those people when through who were killed, why the men did it, what they felt when they did it, where they might be now and what is the let down now like and how will they be found and how will those who find them hold back and show restraint and not tear them to pieces, as perhaps should happen.  All these things go through my mind and they shouldn't because there is nothing I can do about any of this and no sense can be made of it.

If I tried to make sense of it, I'd say, to convince myself it could be explained, as if I knew, something like this:  Those men are joiners, followers--people who want to please someone else, be a part of a larger pack, prove themselves worthy to leaders of the pack.  They are unable to function in society, and love the power that comes with killing other people.  It makes them feel virile whereas in real life, they are impotent and even their own mothers have likely rejected them.

There are lots and lots of people like this all over the world.  Religion has nothing to do with it.  They need a cause to join together so they use religion as an excuse.  But really, they just want to kill people and vent their hatred and anger.

But I don't understand nor do I need to understand.  It's completely appropriate to be shocked.   But after that, to move on and forget it.  There will soon be more violence on the news to take its place.

There are angry people in the world.  They have access to weapons.  That probably explains much of it.

I wish that every paper in every free nation and city in this world would run cartoons tomorrow that come from the paper in France targeted today by murderers.

In your face!

I try not to indulge in thinking much about the violence.   It can make the winter harder to bear and the days long.

So I give you cats instead, as a counter to the violence of today's news.  They are my retreat, my cure, my sanctuary.

Simba came to visit today.  He wanted treats.  He comes by almost every morning to wander through my garage and get petted.
I took Number 34 home today.

Shaulin with the cats' favorite Christmas present--a slanted scratcher they have already nearly destroyed from use. 
Soloman, one of the cats who got a dental not long ago.  He's a sweetie!
Comet, who has finally forgiven me for his recent vet trip.
Cougie, one of my toothless wonders and a love! 

Misty, with Mums behind her, on the Top of the World cat run.  Misty has been so much more playful and happy after she had seven bad teeth pulled.
Juno, the watcher!  Juno has so many friends here!  Sam and Teddy are two of them.  Jade is another.
What a nice cushy bed, says Starry, of the down comforter that we all love.
Nemo, Starry's brother, peeks in from the freshly cleaned window box, to add a meaningful look!
Mops likes his secret spy spot on the lower level of the coffee table.
Gretal has become very funny in her older years.  She will come get me in the bedroom, meowing plaintively.  This means she wants food or to play.  But it does the trick.  She likes the wet food, as one of my toothless wonders!
Oci, who came from the same place Sam did at the same time, is my only fat cat.  And I need to get her to exercise more.   I'm not sure how to help her.  She's wild.
Meanwhile dear old Vision is in the process of failing, although she does not seem to suffer. Every night now I hold her, and massage her old body and she purrs and lays her head against me.  When she sleeps across the heat vents, she dreams and wakes herself with loud  meows that sound almost like she is young and calling out to a friend or in heat or with her mother.  When she wakes herself like this, she seems embarrassed.  She still has her enjoyments, her friends, she eats and drinks and bumps heads and purrs.  So for now, she is still alive and  knows it and has her pleasures.  But it won't be long now.

The Usual Suspects


  1. LOVE the cats. They would be my antidote to things which troubled,hurt and/or frightened me too. As mine are.

  2. I agree, run the cartoons worldwide as an antidote. Maybe if cartoons sending up Hitler were widely published, much agony could have been avoided.

  3. You take such lovely cat pics. Looking at them is balm for my troubled mind. Well, yeah, so are my own cats, but it's nice to get some variety.

  4. EC, the cats are a good antidote to everything. I spend half my time, in evil plotting and scheming against them, how to keep them out of somewhere, how to thwart this or that behavior...

    Andrew---right on. Maybe the German people would have questioned Hitler, instead of going along, had there been cartoonists lampooning his every move and speech!

    Lisa---yes, they are balm, of all kinds. Variety is good.