Politics, public opinion and other loose musings

These last few days the media seems to be wallowing in the news about Usama bin Laden's death. Wherever I turn the headlines scream it out (granted, I've mostly turned in places where the evening newspapers reign). First it was the whole deal about him "finally" being dead after a ten year long hunt. And now that the first awe about that seems to have died down speculations about how he died, when he died and so on have taken over.

While I am sure some people can finally sleep well at night now that he is supposedly dead (I'm still faintly sceptic since it seems the only picture of him "dead" so far seems to have been a photoshopped fake from 2009) the thing that affects me the most is the absurdity of how big of a news item it has become.

Frankly, I feel distinctly ill at ease when I see this type of single-minded focus, this right out wallowing in someone's death. I don't know how bad he was, I don't defend what he did, I know what his group claims to have done, I've seen the footage about 9/11 more times than I can remember, but still, while the Western world (including those countries that really haven't ever been in danger of the al-Qaida) celebrates they seem to forget that bin Laden was a human just like everyone else. He probably had people who actually liked him and who will truly mourn him, if he didn't have people following him most likely he'd never have been able to do what he's done.

Let's turn the scenario around: A charismatic ("good") leader of the West world has been killed (for the sake of reference let's remember the murder of JFK). The world is flooded with pictures of the place where he died, complete with pools of blood and what-not, speculations and so on about how it was done. And it turns out that there are thousands of people somewhere else cheering loudly because of his death, bragging even. How would those who relied on that person feel? We would immediately become enraged and filled with anger towards those people, right? So really now, is it any surprise so many in the Muslim countries hate the West? After all, we're doing exactly what the scenario above described right now that bin Laden has been killed.

Anyway, that wasn't really the main thing for me though. I'm neither happy nor sad he's supposedly dead. I haven't been affected either way by his existence and frankly haven't been all that interested in following what went on (other than being surprised to find out they were still looking for him). What goes on in my mind is more the issue of popularity. I know that some might think I'm way off my rocker and that my musings aren't nearly well-grounded enough for me to have an opinion. And I also admit that they're probably right. It still doesn't stop me from musing.

Apparently president Obama's popularity hadn't been all that great. And according to some sources it's better now that Usama is dead. This worries me. I've actually followed the presidency of Obama with quite a bit of interest. From my point of view (which, granted, is coloured by Swedish values and what is reported in the media, on the web and the likes) he seems to have really gone into it with a wish to make the US a better place, to improve the health of the citizens, to open up more opportunities for a better life for the majority. His health reform, the way he seems to have imposed regulations for credit card companies' right to raise interests and so on should be the good things. It should definitely gain him a lot more popularity than most presidents since he genuinely seems to care for his people and wish a better life for them. And yet I've seen a lot more negative, hard criticism from his own people about his reforms than George W Bush (who really only seemed to be aiming for more war, more oil and taking over the world while not caring a whit about his people) seems to have gotten during his time in office. At most Bush was ridiculed.

What I'm wondering is what kind of politic do people want when they think better of a head of state because a terrorist has been killed rather than for the improvements to their own everyday lives created during that head of state's time of office? Why should one person's popularity be boosted by someone else's death? To me it feels quite... nasty, really.

As for mass-murders and acts of terrorism I, under the threat of being mislabelled a religious fanatic, will now mention one of the few quotes I know from the Bible:

"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone"
What country hasn't got something like that in their history? The US quite often seems to conveniently forget the whole issue of what was done to the native Americans when the settlers (the future Americans) came to the continent and during the years of settlement. Or for that matter, the slavery. All those years white Americans treated other humans worse than cattle, forcing them to work their bones to dust and all sorts of other unpalatable acts. Or how the UK took over large parts of Asia and treated the natives there as servants, lower beings. Or South Africa with the apartheid. Or Scandinavia's vikings (who did indeed deal with slaves as well, both native and those they had stolen from other countries during their raids). The list could go on forever. There's Darfur, there's Zimbabwe and so on. Really, wherever you look, if you dare to dig deep enough, acts of terrorism, mass-murder and other dark acts of mankind will be found.

Terrorism by the way... It's a really hazy thing. In these last ten years the term has come to, almost solely, be used when Islamic groups have committed crimes against the West world. However, the Muslim fanatics does not have monopoly on committing them and is definitely not synonymous to the term. In fact, according to the UN's opinion on what is considered terrorism:

"Criminal acts intended or calculated to provoke a state of terror in the general public, a group of persons or particular persons for political purposes are in any circumstance unjustifiable, whatever the considerations of a political, philosophical, ideological, racial, ethnic, religious or any other nature that may be invoked to justify them."For reference of the exact place it was written

This text segment does not specifically point out that the act has to be committed by anti-government forces, religious fanatics or even non-citizens of the country affected. With a phrasing like that, governments, religious representants (The Catholic church and their threats of Hell, anyone?) and just about anyone else throughout history could very well have been labelled terrorists.

With that definition... Which country can, after looking back at what their own history holds, truly say they are qualified to throw the first stone?

(There are plenty more definitions of the term "terrorism", of course, but I won't list them all here. To those who really are interested Google is a great way to find stuff and Wikipedia has it's own merits).

With this I'm going to finish up for this post, I think. The gist of above text is probably just my own wish that people started to think for themselves, started to reflect on what's going on and learnt some self-reflection. And maybe a small wish that people realised that no matter who it is that died it is still a life lost, no matter what type of person it was that died.

Just because Hitler and Usama bin Laden is dead it doesn't mean the world is a better place. One or two persons' deaths can't make it so. Only the positive effort, energy and will-power of millions of people working together and helping each other, without fighting over money, resources or power, will bring about a true change for the better.

Another candle to be lit

Today I received some sad news. Another one of my parents' cats has died.

My mother called me yesterday, asking what she should do with their cat Lukas (although my mother always insisted it was spelled 'Lucas'). He had acted strange since the day before yesterday, walking around meowing loudly and licking his fur frenetically. He'd also started picking fights with their other cat, seemingly for no good reason. From what it sounded like when she described it, it seemed like he was a bit frustrated, maybe annoyed because of the winter fur shedding. My mother described it almost as if he was behaving like he was in heat. The thing is, he was neutered around the time he turned 1 year old. Either way, it didn't sound all that serious. He ate and drank as he should, and used the litter box. I suggested she call the vet if she was really worried but it sounded like either he'd gotten lice or was just annoyed at the shedding. This morning when my mother got up from bed she made sure he ate and drank and gave him his vitamins, which he ate without any fuss. In other words, he seemed no different from his usual self.

Which is why it came as such a shock when my father called me earlier today, his voice choked, to ask if I knew where mother was working today since he needed to talk to her. I asked what it was about and he said something horrible had happened.

Apparently he had walked into the living room during the early afternoon and found Lukas dead. I don't have any details as of yet and my mother asked me not to call today since she'd only be crying in the phone.

Lukas was a great cat. He was big, weighing close to 9-10 kg. A big black lump of attitude and cuddles. He had firm opinions, much like any cat, but could always be reasoned with, at least to a certain limit. He was my mother's cat for the most part. She was the one he clung to, always staying close to her whenever he wasn't out hunting whatever thing he believed he'd be able to catch. Many a night they spent with my mother brushing his fur while he was oozing out over her bedspread in a mass of perfectly relaxed cathood.

Despite his obvious favouritism of my mother (which might also be because I was usually the one doing the bad stuff, like forcing him to eat his anti-parasite pill or cutting his claws) he was still a very special cat to me as well. I was there when he was born. For the whole evening and a bit into the night I stayed by the box his mother was in when giving birth, and soothed her when she got agitated. I slept fitfully, always attentive to her every noise and movement. And then they were born, one black and one grey/white little ball of cuteness. I saw Lukas and his brother, Maximus, open their eyes, learn to walk steadily and shortly thereafter raise hell with their weary but strict mother keeping a sharp eye on them. And then as he grew up to become the huge but mellow bundle of purring fur that he was up until today.

I will sorely miss him, just like I am still missing the other cats we've loved and lost: Lukas' grandmother Mia, his grand uncle Kim, his older brothers Bilbo, White nose and Grey nose and his younger brother Rufus; my sister's cats, the sisters Tiger and Doris. All I can do now, though, is hope that wherever they are now, be it Heaven, the Rainbow bridge or just gone, they are not suffering and that they knew, during their always too short time here on earth, how much I and my family loved them.

While most of us walk into it with open eyes, knowing we will one day have to part from our beloved pets, nothing can ever dull that pain when the animals leave us behind to mourn them. No matter how well prepared one thinks one is, it still hurts like one's heart is being ripped in two.

My thoughts go out to my parents and the one cat that is left to wonder where his friend, his half-brother, has gone. And I will mourn on my own, with my own cats for support.

And when All Hallow's eve comes around this year, Lukas' candle will join the others burning in my home in remembrance of the persons, humans and pets alike, that have passed on. And I will cling to the hope that Lukas's will be the only candle joining the others this year.

Rest in Peace, big little Lukas!

We will miss you!

Pets

Why do we keep pets? Even though we know there will be a time, always too soon, when we will have to say goodbye to them?

Today my mother took one of their cats to the vet since he'd been sluggish and weak. I've had my fair share of visits to the vet myself lately, what with the older cat having problems with her thyroid gland (she's going to have to eat medicine every other day for the rest of her life) and the little one have chronic renal failure, most likely caused by unfortunate genes, which means we have no idea for how long she will live. So I know all too painfully well how one's mind works in situations like those. And of course, one always holds on to that tiny sliver of hope that maybe it's not something incurable. One checks the pet all the time, flitting back and forth, worrying, thinking: "Oh, he/she drank a bit of water" or "He/she is at least eating" and hopes that that means they're not beyond help. One lays awake every night, listening tensely for any kind of sound that might be out of the ordinary.

But in the end, the problem with cats is that they're not usually ones to show when they feel ill. Not until things have become so serious it'll almost take a miracle to cure it. And... miracles are hard to come by, despite increasingly skilful vets and better methods and research.

In the case of my parents' cat... It turns out he had a huge tumour in the liver. It can be treated, much alike how one treats tumours in humans. But the treatment is often painful and hard for the cat. Sometimes one has to weigh the well-being of the pet against one's own desires. If you really love a pet you have to be prepared to do what's best for the pet, not what will make you feel best. And for an 8 years old cat, already weakened by the illness itself, the best decision for the cat might not be to put it through the pain of chemotherapy and medicines in absurdum. Sometimes the cure can be worse than the disease. My mother chose to do what she thought would be best for the cat, she let it move on. He won't have to feel any pain, won't be weak or ill any longer. He'll be better off wherever he is now.

It's us humans who are left with the pain of losing him. But at least, hopefully, we can find some comfort in thinking that we did what was best for our beloved pet. It's hard to lose them, even when we know we will someday. But still, even if losing them makes you feel like your heart is being ripped to pieces, you know that for what it's worth you were strong enough to make the best decision and not selfishly cling to the need to keep them by your side. Instead of cursing the fact that you have lost them, you have to be grateful for the time you had with them, no matter how long or short that time is.

Animals give unselfishly of themselves and love us unconditionally. The least we can do is to give back what we get, give them the same amount that they give us and always keep their happiness and well-being in mind.

And here, too far away for me to be able to hug my mother tightly and tell her these things, a candle is burning for the cat we all loved and whose life we will cry for losing. But most of all, that candle is burning for the ones of us who are left behind.

Rest in peace, Rufus

I hope you're having fun at the Rainbow Bridge, baby!
http://www.indigo.org/rainbow/

EDIT: I noticed Rufus's birth date is wrong. He was born in 2002, not 2001 as the picture above says.