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The Internet is buzzing with individuals and groups who are coming to the aid of the tornado victims across the south, most predominately in Alabama. FEMA is there, as is USDA for farmers. Everyone wants to help.
This is my home state. Of course I'm concerned about the people. But I'm not helping. Not yet. With all the influx of money and goods and offers of help, my help won't make any real difference right now. Instead I pray for them.
Is it callousness that prevents me from helping? No. On the contrary. I am very worried about what will happen to all those families, young people, elderly people, farmers, small business owners, whoever they are.
I'm waiting for the phenomenon known as the Casserole Period to end before I offer help in terms of time, talents, and treasure. Anyone who has lost a close family member -- parent, spouse, child -- knows exactly what the Casserole Period is.
On average, it's about six months long. During those first months after the funeral, neighbors and church members and friends bring casseroles and frozen dishes for the family's supper. They ask how you're holding up. They offer to help in whatever way is needed. And then it stops.
People no longer ask how you're holding up. They worry if you look sad or teary-eyed after what they think is sufficient time to be over your grief. They no longer bring casseroles.
And so it is with natural disasters. Our focus moves on. Remember Banda Aceh? McDowell County, West Virginia? New Orleans? Port-au-Prince? Christchurch? Sendai? Fukushima?
There will still be a need for assistance six, nine, eighteen months from now. Who will be there to bring casseroles after another trip around the sun?
Some nice folks stopped by to read the first of the sensory blogs on sight but were disappointed that there were no links to some of the sites. Links have been added to some. Check them out here.
Rarely do I delve into politics on my blog. But I just couldn't keep quiet anymore. In my high school days, a wise older man used to tell us, "Your actions speak louder than your words." In this situation, what also comes to mind is:
"Silence is consent."
"Silence speaks volumes."
"The most profound statements are often said in silence."
"The tree of silence bears the fruit of peace."
All of these could be true. Of what do I speak? China's silence on the North Korean attack on a South Korean island and the upcoming war games of South Korea and the United States. China has been hush-hush on the recent events, and North Korea has precious little oil, and there may be a power struggle going on in North Korea for control of the country.
Several people have said publicly that they fear another Korean war. There might be fighting between the two Koreas. But I doubt it'll be what it was in the 1950s. To me, this is a good example of knowing one's history and understanding today's geopolitics. And listening to the sounds of China's silence.
Sex with robots? It could happen.
It's widely reported that men's and women's sex drives are in opposition to each other. Younger women and older men have compatible sex drives, as do older women and younger men. The former set tend to end things much sooner than the latter set.
Except for one British woman who at age 62 went on a two-year sex binge encompassing more than 200 one-night stands. So there are some exceptions to the general rule. Somehow it's easier imaging Olivia Newton-John bed-hopping than a grandmother from Leeds.
Another bit of news of recent days was the remarkably life-like Japanese robot. She looks like an average late-20s or early-30s Japanese woman with long black hair, dark eyes, perfect skin, and a pink jacket. She nods and shakes her head, blinks her eyes, smiles, and bows geisha-style. She even raises her eyebrows. Her speech needs work. She still sounds robotic.
Given American men's proclivity to porn featuring Asian women (admit it guys), there could be a huge market for this. For younger men who tend to date younger women, she could go at it literally like the Energizer Bunny. If they ever develop a male version, older women might never knit again. And it might save countless men in north central England from being another notch in the lipstick case of a nymphomaniac grandmother.
