I am supposed to be writing a lab report. I don't feel like it. I'll probably do it later tonight. Or, this morning. Anyway, I'm feeling incredibly skittish right now. Strange. Might've been that half-cup of cola I had. Regardless, I need to settle down. Perhaps I should put on some beethoven… Earlier stuff. Piano sonatas maybe. Probably would be a bit more calming than the pedro the lion I've got on right now.
I'm also a bit lonely. Seems to happen often, does it not? I think it's 'cause mandy's leaving tomorrow, and I won't see her all weekend. I think I should nap or something… This weird feeling is killing me.
Anyway, I was listening to NPR's All Things Considered today, and they interviewed some lady whose son died as a firefighter in the 9/11 rescue operations. It sounds to me like she needs some counseling. She's projecting her grief onto Moussaoui. Face it, lady, he didn't kill your son. And you need to let it go, for your sake. Your son is not going to be avenged by the death of another. He was a hero, no doubt, but his job was to save lives, not to kill terrorists. Anyway, she won't be reading this ever, so oh well. But I still have lots of things to say about this. She said something like "it was like looking at the face of evil." No, lady, he was just black… You know, they're a different race. He's also a bit wrong in the head. And you know what, he WANTS the death penalty. You want to give him what he wants? I think to let him rot in jail is a much worse punishment than death. I'd rather die than sit in jail all my life, getting raped repeatedly by my cell-block-mates. But I digress. I just think that he really wasn't all that involved… He seems a bit stupid, and didn't even know WHEN the attacks were to happen. And he is not the embodiment of evil. His eyes were not empty, they're just brown, you third-reich aryan bitch. Your racist remarks do nothing to further your cause, or relieve your grief. You will still grieve the same if they do give Moussaoui the death penalty.
I'm not heartless, I just think the lady needs to own up to her grief. Some psychiatric counseling could do her some good. Me too, lady, me too.