I suppose anyone who has the luxury of forming an opinion about anything is in an enviable position.  The extent of patriotism I have for my country exists in the recognition that I am able to comfortably disapprove of systems from which I benefit to assuage my own guilt, and safely bemoan the institutions that hinder me without ever trying to change them, always finding reasons that such a thing would be impossible.  I can look up and down the social hierarchy and feel blessed and furious, self-righteous and cheated, guilty and helpless.  How would I be able to feel like a hypocrite without the education I've received?  How upset can I become about the state of things when I am deeply concerned about the precarious state of my own well-being?  Has the architecture of my life been laid on the foundations of sloth or cowardice?  Should I be less angry, and work harder?  Should I be more angry, and let ambition be eclipsed by a nobler purpose?  And how far would I be able to take any endeavor with my many flaws?  What am I really willing to sacrifice?  It is so easy to want more when I take for granted all that I have to lose, when so much attention is paid to that which can be gained, that which is currently missing.

My upbringing led me to have certain ideals, and I am grateful for them.  But the way moral conundrums were always presented to me left me with the notion that upon turning 18 I would be offered three doorways, one that would lead to being a dissatisfied housewife, one to the desk of the demon that manages the exchange of souls for worldly goods, and one where I would be rewarded with a purpose and all the physical amenities and comforts that come from living in this, our great nation.  Never having been presented with any of these options at any juncture, I am currently selling cheaply made foreign goods to strangers, not making even close to enough money to live on, and feeling deeply depressed about never having been more ambitious/lucky in terms of having a successful career.  I slip on my own $8 loafers from Wal-Mart, and come home from my job selling shoes feeling like my hands are covered in the blood of children from Southeast Asia.  I will take the breadcrumbs and flock to the circus tents erected by the system that keeps me down, with my shabby ideals tucked safely away in the part of myself that is allowed to be angry.

As fate would have it, the other adage from my childhood carried all the truth.  If you want it, you'll have to work for it.  Some people won't, and some people can't, and some people don't have to.  But you, Saturday's child, will have the wisdom that comes from working hard for a living.  I often complain that it was foolish to think I'd grow-up to be a writer, why had I not been a more practical adolescent? And perhaps it was foolish.  But maybe I'll never know, because the real truth is that I don't know how impossible it is to be published.  Because I haven't written anything. 

The questions are almost entirely triggered by the daily discrepancies between genuine humanity and the thick, flat hand of mediocrity that seems to lie so heavily on the back of this place in which I live.  I can't stand that everyone is so indignant about things that are obviously bad.  It is a compassionate heart that wants to see someone who murdered their child behind bars.  No one wants their loved ones to become sick, or hurt, or threatened.  No one wants danger or instability or disillusionment to become factors in their daily lives.

But how much moral courage does it really take to sign Caylee's law when the way we live endorses the pain and suffering of thousands of children the world over?  Are you really taking a stand in saying that people should not be allowed to murder their children?  How much of a statement is a bumper sticker that disapproves of terrorist acts, or pink bracelets that show the world that we aren't one of those pro-cancer people?  Who is it that decides which aspects of human suffering are unacceptable, and which are simply the way of the world?   What catered events are we attending to show the world what kind of people we are?  What is deplorable, what is necessary?  Who should be saved, and who has condemned themselves to their fate?