powerless

Wandi, a friend of ours, witnessed, and was unable to do anything to stop some hardcore badness down in Southie last night. Two of her friends had the crap beat out of them by a bunch of thugs. Ten against two. Three if you count her.

It makes me angry. It makes me sad. And yet I know there's nothing I can do about it; nothing I could have done about it. There's a part of me that wishes I could have been there to help -- to even the odds, to teach them a lesson, to give back a little of what they deserve. But that's crazy talk. I've been brainwashed by too many stories of the triumphant underdog, too many cinematic happy endings. (Too many kung fu movies.) Really, I would have just been another body to get messed up -- I may be tall, but I'm not a big guy, and I would hardly be considered intimidating. And I know that the right thing to do is to avoid the confrontation from the get-go (the same voice tells me to fold pocket kings to an obvious flopped ace pair or flush draw, but I ignore that, often as not too), and if that fails, to try and defuse the situation. But then again, I wonder if it that would have even been possible.

Wandi has been trying to move away from Boston for a while now. The thought has bummed me out -- she's wicked cool and fun to hang out with, but I understand where she's coming from. She had plenty of reasons before, and after this, I really couldn't blame her for just picking up and getting the F outta here. But she's tough -- she'll stick around for a while. But I know she's gonna be that much more motivated to check the job listings on the Left coast.

And it's not just about a friend moving away. Being driven away.

I actually like it out here. I think it's a great place to live. Boston is big enough to have plenty of stuff to do (it's got kul'cha!) that you'd expect in a real city (even a pseudo-big city with a chip on its shoulder like Boston). And yet we're close to the country, the woods, the mountains. There are little pieces of conservation land all over the place. And it's small enough to have a sense of community. (some might call it provincial.) And yes, this is probably in large part a head-to-head comparison to L.A. So sue me, I'm from L.A.

But bad things happen -- it's a fact of life. But I forget how close to home it can be. And when it happens, and when there's nothing you can do about it, what can you do?

Leave.

Sure, but doesn't that mean they win?

It kind of reminds me of a conversation I keep having with the SOOTTAD. (and which has come up in other contexts as well)

The presidential election.

I'm terrified at what a second Bush administration might do to the environment, the economy, the Constitution, the country, the world. There is this background buzz (that I'm desperately trying to squelch) that puts me on edge and keeps me from sleeping at night. The SOOTTAD says (and I think only half jokingly, maybe even 1/4 jokingly) that if he gets re-elected, she's moving to Canada. Pacific Northwest probably. Vancouver.

But, I ask, then what? What does that solve? It's like we're handing the One Ring over to Sauron, leaving Middle Earth for the Undying Lands. We give up. Screw you guys, we're going homeleaving. And if enough people do that, it's gonna just snowball and it'll never get better. I don't have the power to change things myself, but there are capable people out there. But if we bail, who will get them into a position where they can do something about it?

I guess I know the answer. Or at least an answer. Whether it really works, I really wish I knew. And it's a case where my gut tells me it's the right thing, but is also telling me that it's probably going to suck a lot. The right thing is not always the easy thing. But I remain circumspect that things could be a lot worse -- we personally are not suffering through abject poverty here, I haven't lost my home to the bank or to bombing, haven't been locked up for my beliefs. Not yet, at least, and hopefully not ever.

I'll end this with a small bit of dialog from the first act of 36th Chamber of Shaolin. Our protagonists' town, their province, is occupied by a foreign power, the Manchus (tartars in the English subtitles). After having a run-in with the local warlord and told by an elder (who saves their necks) that they should "humble oneself under enemy's rule," the students pay a late night visit to their teacher, Master Ho, to ask him what he thinks.

Master Ho: One brave man alone is not enough. But unity is strength.
Student: but the tartars are well-armed. We...
Master Ho: Men owes his allegiance to his country.

And keeping with the theme (with a bit of role-reversal), you can also remember this.