Occupying the Occupation

I've been reading the Occupy Wall Street movement for awhile now. I'm sure many have. I'm interested for several reasons; I believe there is an inequity though I don't know that I've managed to put my finger on the precise nature of it, there is potential for a great deal of change which may be good or bad, plus change is just exciting. One common complaint is that there is no single message other than expressions of fiscal inequity among the occupiers and that there is no one single voice to represent this growing movement. I believe that if the movement goes on for very much longer, someone is going to make an attempt to scoop up these people and try to wield them like a big heavy club. I only hope that when that happens that person is the right person doing the right thing.

The first observation I had about all of this was that I hadn't noticed it at first. Here was this group of people protesting, making a lot of noise in one of the most populous and newsworthy cities on the planet, in my own country, and there was virtually no news coverage of it. I have watched as it gained more traction among blogs and indie news sites but still heard nothing coming from the standard media outlets. Then when that coverage did come, there was a definite bias against the occupiers with very little by way of attempts to glean what it was they were there to protest.

Now as I hear news reports come in, many times the protests and the reactions to same are peaceful. Sometimes they are not. Perhaps there is bias because of the news sources I had to rely on early on but it seems to me that the police reaction has been over the top in a handful of cases. Unacceptably so. There is fear everywhere. Protesters who fear for their livelihood which has driven them to protest, and who fear for their lives because they don't know what the official response will be. Police who fear that riots will ensue. Politicians and powerbrokers who see this emotion and power, chaotic and untamed but present, and fear that they will not be able to combat it or control it.

Emotions are running high and as interactions escalate into more violence, as fears are realized, more will be drawn into this movement. An opportunity will be made visible. Someone will step forward who seems to "get it". Who knows how to talk, how to charm, how to cajole the crowd. They will become the leader, not because they were elected but because the protesters will see them as someone who represents them well, who can be the front man or woman to present their needs to the powers that be. To get things done. And things will get done. There is a power here, deep, hidden but there. It's possible it will disperse, though that will still leave the undercurrent of frustration and anger and fear to latch onto. It is also possible it will be harnessed. They say nature abhors a vacuum. And historically we see that this sort of movement, this sort of power, rarely goes unclaimed for very long. I only hope that we don't regret who takes the reins.

Silver Linings

I have been hard pressed to focus on the blog of late. My 9 year old daughter plays soccer and several days ago, during practice, was on the receiving end of a kicked soccer ball. Unfortunately the ball was kicked by one of the dads and from about 10 feet in front of her. She did not lose consciousness but was knocked to her back. He apologized and she got up on her own, which is likely why my initial reaction wasn't more visceral. She has, however, been diagnosed as having a grade 1 concussion, the symptom in her case being a lingering headache that has persisted the entire week. She is getting better and the CT scan today revealed no subdural bleeding, so I think it's only a matter of time before she gets better.

I don't think I need to say this, but there is no reason to kick the ball hard when playing with 9 year olds. There is nothing they learn from a projectile moving more quickly than they are likely able to react to in response. You prove nothing more than that you are a grown up acting very irresponsibly around other people's children as well as your own. I don't think I need to say this, but then I wouldn't have thought I needed to say it before, either.

Write makes Right

So I’ve been writing lately, and not just here. There’s other stuff... elsewhere... just go with it okay? Anyway, I’ve been blessed with several friends who are willing to read what I write and even more blessed because they seem to be willing to say when something’s not working. Overall though I’ve gotten positive feedback and general encouragement. It makes me happy.

In one of those meandering trains of thought that seems to have no start but sometimes has an abrupt and revealing ending, it occurred to me that I don’t like to read what I’ve written. Keep in mind I like to read. I like to read the same genres that I write in. So the type of material isn’t the problem. It also isn’t that I necessarily dislike my own writing style. Certainly I don’t re-read my authorial creations for the pleasure of it, even though I have been known to revisit books by others from time to time. But for some reason my own fiction fails to entertain me.

And yet I enjoy creating it. When I’m in the mood, I find myself going over the next chapter, trying different ideas on, thinking about what will be more interesting for the reader, what will flow better and what will reveal things properly. Some of the guidelines of writing will pop into my head and I’ll work at applying them, seeing how it alters what I am considering writing. Then I’ll write. Usually I start getting a feel for what went right and what went wrong and I’ll spend time trying to think of how to fix it, or if it even is fixable. I’ll start rethinking what I was trying to convey, making sure that what was delivered was what was intended. If you’ve written you’ll know what I mean.

I find that creative process appealing. I have the usual doubts, wondering if people are praising me because they like me not because they like the prose. Or how long I would go on writing if I wasn’t receiving such encouragement, and so on.

For now I’m enjoying things. I want to finish what I’ve started, I like where it’s going and I hope to entertain anyone who happens to read it along the way. I doubt I’ll ever make a single penny off of it, but that’s not what it’s about. Nor is it about making something I want to read personally. I think it’s being able to exercise an ability which others seem to appreciate. And in the end I think that makes it right.