The Earth From Space

John Rosenblatt and I just rode our bikes below Canal Street for the first time since last fall. We rode behind the Tribute in Light, behind the abandoned World Financial Center, behind the shattered Winter Garden, across the recently re-opened West Side Highway and north along Trinity Street just inches from the 16-acre pit that is Ground Zero.

Easter mass this morning was quite the production. In the procession, an elderly woman hoisted the Bible over her head like an extra in a Marilyn Manson video. The St. Paul Singers’ harmonies ebbed and flowed like some Broadway musical (presumably because many of them are in Broadway musicals). And Father Tim worked the alter like Tony Robbins on a faith kick. All of which was fine. I’m no blaspheme. But it played out with some irony as I thought about the mess in the Middle East.

I have a framed poster of the Earth from space on my wall in my apartment. It just a blue circle floating in a sea of black. It’s finite. We can level everything, and render these conflicts moot. Or we can share it.

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