Yesterday night, coming back to campus on the metro, I sat down in a relatively full car just across from a rather unique looking character. He was wearing a dirty, torn, reaking, and obviously mismatched army uniform. He had a German flag patch on his arm, was wearing a couple of different layers for warmth and impermeability and had a camo back pack. He was sporting a sort of mushroom cut but with the sides totally shaven and had bites or welts of some sort on his face and neck.
Like everyone around me, I tried not to give him too much attention but without seeming to be shunning him. However, especially wearing a suit and carrying a laptop bag, I couldn't help but feel rather unsafe and, yet again, understand why one would want to carry a weapon wherever they go. In two other instances here in DC I've found myself sitting apprehensively with my hand in my pocket and my thumb on the "9" button of my cellphone.
In Newfoundland, within days of the incident in which border officials killed an agitated, though seemingly harmless Polish immigrant in a Vancouver airport using a Taser, their use and future purchase was halted. Since the province's first acquisition of Tasers in 2003, they have never been used.
Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. 'Nothing in particular,' she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.
How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough, shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me.
-Helen Keller, Three Days to See (1933)
NB: Helen Keller was deaf-blind.
How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough, shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me.
-Helen Keller, Three Days to See (1933)
NB: Helen Keller was deaf-blind.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Annie Get Your Gun
Labels:
Washington DC 2007-08
Gepostet von
Nicholas Dubé
unter
Monday, December 03, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment