Tuesday, May 31, 2016

When A Gorilla Grabs Someone Else's Kid


No one's to blame. Shit happens. You can't buy protection from all the permutations of accident or wrong that may happen in this world. No one needs to get sued or flamed. How do I know that life is not merely a dream; a figment of wish fulfillment? Because: it doesn't always bend or get out of the way. Our toes get stubbed, our bones get broken, fenders get bent, people even die, when they collide with the world, which in its empirical insistence has a way of rising up in the middle of the road suddenly and forcibly and insurmountably. Ever been at sea in a small boat? The ocean's big. It doesn't care. Ask your friend, the emergency room doctor, if anyone's to blame. Life's a blood sport. Put down the phone to your lawyer and get used to the risk. Drop the siren call of complaint, to which the internet trolls will brainlessly crawl, and save the outrage for systemic wrongs, rather than for 'page six' items in the Daily News. Here's the bottom line: we all die, and many of, horribly, sometimes sooner, sometimes later. Neither your lawyer nor the internet can help.

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