Tag Archives: poverty

The Important Post About Important Stuff!

There is a trend, it seems, that the only good reading is reading that is serious and depressing.  I don’t quite understand this.  I mean, it’s really much harder to be funny than it is to be sad.  Anyone can say sad stuff.  For instance, you could say “My cute, fuzzy little kitten is dead.”  Cute dead fuzzy little kittens are sad.  Now making cute dead little fuzzy kittens funny? That takes talent!  Also sickness in the head.  But mostly talent!

Leave me alonnnnne, Alice.

Leave me alonnnnne, Alice.

Yet we don’t like that, do we?  No, to be taken seriously you have to be dramatic.  That’s why you rarely get any “ha ha” movies winning academy awards.  Or silly books winning major book prizes (although Dave Barry did win a Pulitzer – yay Dave!)  And there are those who think silly blogging is worthless.  If you’re blogging about funny stuff, then you aren’t recognizing that there is poverty, and disease, and destruction, and dead kittens.  And Republicans!  (Yeah, you know I couldn’t resist adding that one.)

But that’s not true.  Humor doesn’t make you forget that there are horrible things in the world.  Humor is what allows you to handle the horrible things in the world.  Sometimes humor is dark, because sometimes the world is dark.  Dead fuzzy kittens fall into the dark humor category, generally, unless we’re talking about Persians cause those things are messed up.  Kidding!  Hahaha, please don’t send PETA after me.

Send them.  Now.  She's horrible.

Send them. Now. She’s horrible.

So then we should only blog about serious topics, right?  Don’t get me wrong – serious blogging is needed.  I know several really good bloggers who blog about serious, important topics like abuse, chronic pain, depression, and more.  And unfortunate kitten accidents, probably.  And people who are so disturbed they keep bringing up cute past-tense animals.  But – wait – if you’re blogging about unfortunate events, then you’re still not doing anything.  You’re not MAKING A DIFFERENCE IN THE WORLD.

You didn’t realize that, did you?  Blogging about poverty doesn’t end poverty.  I know, it floored me when I found this out too.  Blogging about abuse doesn’t stop abuse either.  And blogging about Republicans?  Yeah, they are still here.  So we should really just quit this blogging business, you guys, and get out there and MAKE A DIFFERENCE.  I thought about this a whole lot when I was composing this here blog post.  I mean, when I wasn’t considering whether dead monkeys would sound creepier than dead kittens.  I came to a conclusion.  I was going to change the world.

You realize you talk about stupid stuff, right?

You realize you talk about stupid stuff, right?

So this morning I got up and went to a homeless shelter where I served people breakfast I’d made myself out of twigs and blackberries, then got them all houses (John McCain will never miss them).  And right after that I flew to Africa and I gave people food (would you believe those people in the Unicef commericals were just standing around NOT giving sandwiches to these kids?  They were right there the whole time!)  I also gave out a bunch of free drug samples I stole from my doctor’s office.  Some of it was enhancement pills, but who knows, they might be useful.  Before I left, I adopted a child not yet claimed by Angelina Jolie and I flew back to the states just in time for lunch.  Instead of eating (I gave my sandwich to a less fortunate kitten), I cured Cancer.  Then I went to all the inner cities and gathered up all the guns and the gangs and we joined hands and sang Kum-ba-yah and drank coke and promised to be bffs forever.  Then I took the guns and aimed them at all the abusers, especially the child abusers, and they all ran and jumped off cliffs.  On my break I created purple glasses so that when people wore them everyone looked purple and they weren’t sure who they were supposed to hate anymore.  I also wrote letters to every nation on earth and said “Quit it” and they all went “D’oh” and stopped their wars and dismantled their nuclear facilities.  Finally, I went home, gave my supper to a homeless guy I made into my personal butler after teaching him how to be courteous and wear bow ties, and I cured AIDS.  Then I worked out legislation that allowed gay people to marry because seriously there is no reason they can’t have FUN too and they invited me to a rocking party where I was celebrated as savior to us all, but I humbly declined the giant statue dedicated in my honor.  Instead I had it melted down and made into a swimming pool for kids without swimming pools.  Then I went to bed.

I think she's lying.

I think she’s lying.

You might have noticed in there that I forgot to go to my job.  Also my husband and children were strangely absent.  And there was no blog post, and people got kind of bored.  Here I’d gone and fixed everything, but why?  Why do we want to fix things?  What makes all this struggle worth it?  Happiness?  Justice?  Relief?

What do you feel when you read a really good piece of writing?  Or see a fantastic piece of art?  Or listen to beautiful music?  For a moment, do you not feel so hopeless?  For a moment, do you think change is possible?  I do.  Can I say I’ve CHANGED THE WORLD?  No.  Not the whole world.  Just a very small part of it.  There are people out there that do extraordinary things.  People who work to cure diseases, who go into inner cities and teach, who feed and house people, who push for legislation to better the lives of the people around them.  I work at a library.  I let people get books.  I don’t change a great deal.  But once I looked for information for an elderly man recently diagnosed with Cancer.  I didn’t find what he was looking for, but he said “Thank you for trying.  Thank you for listening.”

I made a difference to him.  I make a difference to my family.  I make a difference, just maybe, to one of you reading.  After all, without me, you might be tempted to eat baby powder.  Or listen to really awful music without realizing it.  You might even be try to read 50 Shades of Awful.  Maybe you might laugh.  Maybe you might feel a little better than you did five minutes ago.

The world is a big place.  There are a lot of people playing their parts.  Do not doubt your own part.  If you want to do more, then do it.  But don’t forget what has already been done, the ripples that you have created in your own pond just by being you.  Interesting, unique, and possibly gassy you.

Blog on, my friends.

Alice