No, Seriously

This week was supposed to be the week when I presented Part I of the 2004 Worst of the Year Awards. But as I worked on the column, it was obvious that what happened in the last week of 2004 was much worse than any of the nonsense I was going to write about. I kept thinking about the tsunami.

That I don't have to clarify and tell you which tsunami, or provide a link to a news story about the tsunami, says plenty about its scope and impact. And last week, as I wrote the last column of 2004, I wanted to add something about the tsunami -- I wanted to at least mention it. But no matter how long I stared at the screen, I couldn't come up with anything that sounded right, and out of respect, I thought it better to say nothing than to say something wrong.

I've now had a week to think more about it, talk more about it, and try to make sense of it, so I think I'm ready to write about it.

I was talking with some friends this week, and somebody asked me why I don't write serious columns once in a while, why I don't "use my forum" to offer serious analysis or opinion. Maybe they were wondering if I would write something about the tsunami, or maybe they were just wondering. Either way, my initial response was that writing seriously is not my job -- I'm in the business of satire. My job, if you can call it that, is to be a smart-ass every week, and I don't know that anybody wants or needs me to provide serious analysis of anything.

The last non-funny column I wrote (well, the last one where I wasn't trying to be funny) was Friday, September 14, 2001. You may recall what happened the previous Tuesday.

I wrote then not because I felt I had something important to say, but because writing was a way for me to sort out what I thought and how I felt, for me to realize and articulate what I had learned and what I believed.

Same deal here.

And invariably, I, we draw connections between the two events. They are great tragic mileposts in our lives, events of staggering proportion that shock us, that leave us aching, that make us appreciate what we have and re-evaluate our place in the world. And though I understand the physics and geology of earthquakes and plate tectonics and tsunami-size waves, the act of nature isn't any easier to grasp than the act of terrorism.

Like 9/11 before it, the tsunami is beyond anything we've known, and because it's so final -- it's so done, so impossible to turn back the clock on -- it's easy to feel overwhelmed and helpless in its aftermath.

But like before, how we're making sense of this tragedy, how we're overcoming that feeling of helplessness, is to help. The worldwide outpouring of generosity this last week has been astonishing. We haven't yet seen Congressional representatives from both parties singing together on the steps of the Capitol, but the unity -- and speed -- with which people have offered assistance and support has been heartening. It's also been a reminder and an affirmation that we're all in this together.

And maybe it's that sense of global solidarity that has me thinking -- okay, dreaming -- that one morning I'm going to wake up and there won't be any more news about car bombings or shootings, that this tragedy, beyond anyone's control, will remind people how embarrassingly human we all are, and that warring factions will feel compelled to lay down their arms and their anger and say, "You know what? This is dumb. What are we out here killing each other for? Is it really something we can't be reasonable about and maybe work out?"

I realize that's beyond foolish optimism -- unless it's not. After all, there is now peace in Sumatra's Aceh province. In Sri Lanka, there has been a cease-fire in a long-running civil war, as people from both sides have come together to support tsunami victims. Countries as politically opposed as the United States and North Korea are contributing to the relief effort.

And maybe as individuals from all over the world contribute (and if you'd like to contribute, Google, USA Freedom Corps, and Network for Good all have lists of organizations to which you can contribute online), people and nations and political parties and religious groups and ethnic groups from all over the world will get that creeping feeling that maybe we really are all in this together, and act accordingly.

Hey -- it's worth hoping.

Thanks for reading, and for giving me these few minutes to talk about something serious. We'll get back to Paris Hilton and Ugg boots and Capital One commercials next week.