This really hit home. That idea—that our grief, our disgust, our refusal to acclimatise to injustice—isn’t failure but resistance? That feels like oxygen.
So much of the world asks us to numb ourselves just to function. But when we still feel—even when it overwhelms us—it’s proof we remain part of the pattern. Not the one imposed on us, but the deeper weave of care, rage, memory, and defiance. Thank you for naming that truth so clearly.
This was an incredibly thoughtful and meaningful read Scarlet. You both validate the abject horrors we’ve collectively witnessed and how that makes us feel, while also providing a worthwhile and constructive direction to channel that grief into. I think for many of us, it’s been rather paralyzing to wake up everyday to fresh new horrors that simultaneously demonstrates the abject lack of humanity that so many people seem proud about boasting. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to put my head in my hands and just weep from the overwhelming nature of it all. Nothing has been more fundamentally and profoundly radicalizing than witnessing these last 18 months of genocide, and I don’t imagine I’m alone there. As you simply yet perfectly say:
“You knew this system was evil before this genocide, but you never felt it so acutely.”
A part of me feels shattered in a way that I may simply never be able to repair, and I’ll hold that against this crumbling empire until the day it finally falls — likely after as well.
On the flip side, emphasizing love may sound cheesy to some but I genuinely couldn’t agree more. We’ve been subjected to so much barbaric cruelty and complete and utter disregard for human life, that love needs to be a central core of what our movement is all about. So many people are suffering and drowning in their own grief — we need to provide them that off-ramp into something more dignified and humane. I love the inclusion of what feels like a flagship quote for you but works perfectly in your analysis:
“It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society”.
We don’t have to accept this as normal and this genocide is showing just how many people feel and believe that to be true. From the ashes of grief arises hope, love, compassion, and empathy, and with those we can forge a movement that leads to a better world for us all.
“The barbarians may have their hollow gods, but they do not have us.”
Fantastic read as always Scarlet. I think this piece in particular will be rather meaningful to anyone whose felt the same ways we have watching this genocide unfold.
Interesting point. Does that mean though (if we think of grief as a process) that others are at an earlier stage of the process? Also, do you think there are other potential reactions to this horror? It reminds me a bit of Adam Curtis's concept of "Oh Dear"ism where the media produce a constant stream of stories, to which we are supposed to react with an "oh dear." Emotional numbing I guess is the idea.
This really hit home. That idea—that our grief, our disgust, our refusal to acclimatise to injustice—isn’t failure but resistance? That feels like oxygen.
So much of the world asks us to numb ourselves just to function. But when we still feel—even when it overwhelms us—it’s proof we remain part of the pattern. Not the one imposed on us, but the deeper weave of care, rage, memory, and defiance. Thank you for naming that truth so clearly.
This was an incredibly thoughtful and meaningful read Scarlet. You both validate the abject horrors we’ve collectively witnessed and how that makes us feel, while also providing a worthwhile and constructive direction to channel that grief into. I think for many of us, it’s been rather paralyzing to wake up everyday to fresh new horrors that simultaneously demonstrates the abject lack of humanity that so many people seem proud about boasting. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to put my head in my hands and just weep from the overwhelming nature of it all. Nothing has been more fundamentally and profoundly radicalizing than witnessing these last 18 months of genocide, and I don’t imagine I’m alone there. As you simply yet perfectly say:
“You knew this system was evil before this genocide, but you never felt it so acutely.”
A part of me feels shattered in a way that I may simply never be able to repair, and I’ll hold that against this crumbling empire until the day it finally falls — likely after as well.
On the flip side, emphasizing love may sound cheesy to some but I genuinely couldn’t agree more. We’ve been subjected to so much barbaric cruelty and complete and utter disregard for human life, that love needs to be a central core of what our movement is all about. So many people are suffering and drowning in their own grief — we need to provide them that off-ramp into something more dignified and humane. I love the inclusion of what feels like a flagship quote for you but works perfectly in your analysis:
“It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society”.
We don’t have to accept this as normal and this genocide is showing just how many people feel and believe that to be true. From the ashes of grief arises hope, love, compassion, and empathy, and with those we can forge a movement that leads to a better world for us all.
“The barbarians may have their hollow gods, but they do not have us.”
Fantastic read as always Scarlet. I think this piece in particular will be rather meaningful to anyone whose felt the same ways we have watching this genocide unfold.
I thought of the same Che quote while reading. Also evocative of Gramsci - “Pessimism of the mind, optimism of the will”
Interesting point. Does that mean though (if we think of grief as a process) that others are at an earlier stage of the process? Also, do you think there are other potential reactions to this horror? It reminds me a bit of Adam Curtis's concept of "Oh Dear"ism where the media produce a constant stream of stories, to which we are supposed to react with an "oh dear." Emotional numbing I guess is the idea.