…sometimes seems bleak.
I’m working on a book of essays about genocide studies. Many of them are classic scholarly dissections of who said what and when, and whether the author agrees or respectfully thinks they’re morons.
But then there are the other chapters:
Nazis vs. Poland
English vs. Aborigines
Germans vs. Herero and San
Spanish vs. Inca
Turks vs. Armenians
Cambodians vs. Vietnamese vs.
Canadians vs. Blackfoot
and the list goes on and on and on…
It’s a pretty depressing assignment. To think that there’s enough genocide in human history that there are legions of scholars dissecting it, and journals and books devoted to it — well, it’s just sad.
I’d like to end on a happy note, something about rubbing noses with my darling daughter or giant little-boy hugs. But I’ve got a headache and this book’s taking forever to finish. I think I’m going to play computer games now…mindless entertainment sounds pretty good.