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  1.  (679.1)
    It is 10:12 am when I start writing this. I've had approximately 6 hours of sleep. The first story Reuters scrolls to my feed-reader is about 19 people who were burned to death locked inside a house in Naivasha on Sunday. The article states the death toll is now over 800, and its not the only place in the world that seems to be getting more violent. Most of the news in my feeder, with the exception of those dealing with the arts & tech (A category I've put Grinding.be in) seems to paint a tragic picture of a world falling towards increased violence and chaos. Do journalists dream of dystopian sheep?

    19 people are burned to death. Pakistani kids are held hostage by crazed gunmen (they are later freed) and 5 more US Soldiers are killed in Iraq by insurgents. I shouldn't blame Reuters. It's not the journalists' fault that people do crazy things, and aren't treating other people like, well, people.

    According to scientist Robin Dunbar 150 is the maximum number of folks we can really, truly give a shit about, so when faced with news of people dying in areas far from us, people we don't know and who have no overtly obvious impact upon our lives, its easy to just not care. Sure, we'll gape, and say the socially appropriate "Oh, how Sad! How Tragic, how Horrifying!" But I don't think we really care. Its not our friends being killed. It's some stranger. And inside, I think more than a few of us are glad its not us, its not one of our friends. We can turn off the news feed and radio, walk away from the TV, and pretend it didn't happen. Because it didn't happen to anyone we know, no one in our little monkeysphere.

    Good morning, everyone.
  2.  (679.2)
    You are exactly correct, Roo.
  3.  (679.3)
    Very, very true. Problem is, if we cared about everyone in the world, our brains would explode. But we should care more, yes.
  4.  (679.4)
    If we were busy actually worrying about everyone in the world we would probably go into stress-caused shock and die.
    SPLORT, and I suspect would get even less done than normal, because we were busy worrying.