Troubles come like the toy surprise in the cereal box. You aren't sure what it is until you pull it out and get a look at it. The car and whatever's inside it. The fridge has lost its luster. The rabbit - what the hell is wrong with the rabbit?
Nothing is wrong with the rabbit tonight - but he gave us a scare. Who knew a bunny could sleep so soundly, or be so pissed off when we woke him?
Every news story feels like an attempt to just get a grip on things. Predictability offers a high rate of return - but it isn't real. The economy is going up and down. Joblessness holds its knife to your throat. The election looming in the dictator state - why do they even have an election there when it's so rigged?
Sensible questions often hang in front of a news story with no place to dock - the dirigible of reason incongruent in the political landscape.
There is a simple answer. For everything.
The Taliban thrives in a power vacuum.
Iran prides itself on the farce of democracy. The American economy rides the rails of a broken growth equation.
Real life is not a policy. You don't have a stake in it.
Getting a grip on things - really - requires that you claw your way through, or swim. Context itself becomes our hope, our music.
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