_posted in film | photography | 19 April 2007

i really dig olivier laude's photography. i'm new to his work, but im taken by his portraits. he's created a short video from his trip to Kabul in 2003.

the kids in this video just grab me. it's hard in the midst of all the craziness to stop and think about the everyday people affected by policy and politics.

his musical choice on the car radio is very interesting; joni mitchell. I can't think of a better singer to juxtapose the images and sounds of kabul.

_soundcheck: tim rice and andrew lloyd webber, jesus christ, superstar

_posted in dayedayerocks | 19 April 2007

i didn't think that i would say anything about what happened at Virginia Tech, but it's been eating at me. I can't even imagine what the family and friends of those lost are dealing with. I've not yet (and pray I never will) experienced a personal loss due to violence.

but while walking through the geology building this morning i was struck with an irrational thought; "what if some kid with a gun comes running through those double doors?" i looked around to see what doors were open. and for a split second i was scared. it was an irrational fear. but then i came to my senses. the truth is you never know what waits around the corner for any of us.

that said, i feel so much sadness for any young person who feels that taking their own life, let alone the lives of so many strangers is the appropriate thing to do, the only thing to do. i can't imagine what long, dark and lonely road this kid was on to think this was a solution to his problems. i think people overlook that there are some serious fucked up and lonely kids that feel, rather justly or not, that they are being left behind by the world or looked over or just forgotten. this isn't to say what was done wasn't a completely horrendous act. but i think as a nation we're going to miss the real lesson here. we can't continue to raise kids to believe they don't matter or that they have no sounding board or no one cares.

while driving home yesterday, Brooks Brown, Columbine survivor spoke the most sincere words i've heard since monday. take a moment to listen. in all i've heard this made me pull over and deal with my emotions. in a world where media outlets feel its appropriate to plaster a picture of Cho with a gun putting at the camera in the midst of death and tragedy, a kid who experienced what no child should, has some sincere words. the thing that struck me the most was Brown's mention of his FRIEND Eric Harris. after all Harris and Klebold did, this young man has the strength and humanity to still call a kid who did a terrible, unforgivable thing a friend. i think that will be overlooked, i think people still won't get it.

this isn't about gun control laws. this is about a kid that slide into a dark place a long time ago and he was overlooked; even with all the news about the red flags about his personality, he was still overlooked. i pray that no family has to deal with losing a child to school violence again cause some kid felt alone. i don't know what issues made him take this turn; his isolation, his racial identity, his economic identity, there are so many variables involved that we may never know. but what is obvious is his hatred; of the world and self. that sort of hatred does not appear overnight. it's a slow burn.

when i first heard about what happened, i instantly thought of Cho's parents. how do you survive knowing that your son is now a historical fact, a willful murderer, a shame of a nation? do not take from this a lack of sadness for those lost, but it must be said that there are some serious questions that we as a society must address. we are fractured and we are violent and we are uncaring when all is needed is a kind word, rather than a snarky comment and we are in pain.

this is about a young man who didn't find his way out of depression and madness. this is about us as a country. this about the 33 people who died on Monday; 32 people who, like every other day thought nothing remarkable would happen and now they are gone, and a kid who slide long and hard into a place that no one should ever have to go - especially not alone.