The Art In Suffering

It has occurred to me, that there's a tremendous attention towards this sort of emotion - the sadness associated with it, the curiosity towards the event, the reality of it. I was reading BLDGBLOG a few days ago, and an entry intrigued me, titled 'Nuclear Urbanism' discussing the aftermath of a nuclear bomb in an urban setting of one's choice using a Javascript on Google Maps by CarlosLabs, showing you a diagram of the bomb's destructive stages. And to my interest in this topic I found out that the Soviets had experimented with a bomb named the 'Tsar Bomba' that I've never heard of before, and that this bomb if detonated over Tel Aviv, would wipe out half of Palestine. Which was an act of an absentminded rage.

I'm interested in the tragedy of the nuclear bomb; the entire story, the details of this inhuman apparatus, and on the other hand, it aches me every time I read about it how those innocent lives, be it men or women, elderly or children, were vaporized in a matter of seconds, if not an instant, and were vanished from existence.

This tragedy is what attracts me to it. I love the science behind it but I barely understand it, my understanding is at best primitive, but my emotional attachment to those innocent people is what makes me watch a 110 minute documentary on the topic in complete awe. I don't think it's because I'm inhumane towards those, but because I believe I owe them my recognition, the same way I owe the Palestinians in Gaza nowadays my most precious offering that is my sympathy. As valuable as it is to me as an outsider Palestinian living in a capitalist discreet system, I don't believe it is of any value outside my head, and perhaps this space.

When you google the term 'Tragedy', the basic definition - according to Wikipedia for example, one gets is that it's an art form. That is the contrary of what I was expecting, as if the world intentionally creates those tragedies around us in order to keep those away from them entertained. That is a very shallow conclusion, but I can't but let it out to justify this unjustified silence we live in.

The world is not silent, protests are happening all around the world; politicians have been throwing conferences on this everyday, blame has been circulating endlessly, but silence is present in the actions of governments, in the actions of people, we're being silenced. All this is an alibi to not take action, and I myself join those who use it to cover for their cowardice. But what I can't justify is the 'negligence' I see in the eyes of many, I see it in their NYE parties, in their BBQs, in their careless clubbing, I hear it in their laughing, and cheering for those soccer teams. Those who partied, celebrated birthdays, went on shopping sprees, carried on with their precious lifestyles, those who laughed and still do. Those who silence the rage in us, those who pull us down and backwards, those with dead souls.