HAITI.

What to say?

I stumble and fumble for words, knowing none are even close to adequate.

Imagine, just imagine, your world turned upside down, strapped in, and sent for a bonus ride on the world’s worst roller coaster that demolishes everything you’ve ever known and kills just about everybody you grew up with.

And then.

Imagine being slapped in the face with the reality TV event that Haiti’s suffering has become. Imagine, instead of food and water, you get a steady stream of reporters, correspondents, photographers, videographers all angling for the best victim shot or story. Media trucks and satellite dishes elbowing for space, focusing on the need but doing nothing about it.

If you don’t believe me watch one of the network segments with the sound off.

Over the years, we’ve been through hurricanes and storms and while nothing like what hit Haiti, there have been events that’ve left us powerless, in the dark, and cut off for days. And since we’ve surfed the way outer fringe of something like what they’re enduring our empathy and sympathy gush like a fire hose.

I can’t even imagine what it must be like in Haiti.

And I wonder what’s going on.

I wonder, why, after six days, aid is still just “dribbling” into a country less than a hundred miles away from the US. Why, after six days, news correspondents are still forlornly wringing their collective hands and posing with the hurt and torn for their photo ops but doing little else. Why, after six days, it’s looking more and more like fun times in news story land.

Hell, they can milk this baby for weeks. Or months. Ain’t nothin’ better for the six o’clock news than bad news.

And meanwhile the people of Haiti suffer. Truly suffer.

And I wonder- WTF?

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