Last Friday, I received a message that I had secretly feared for more than a year. After a long and brave battle with lung cancer, Trish Creegan, one of my favorite graduate students and a dear friend, had passed away. Although my inclination was to offer support to her family, I instead became hostage to my own sadness. Since finding out about Trish’s death, I have been able to do little else but cry tears of sadness, anger, and confusion.

While any death is traumatic, I was particularly devastated by the absurdity of Trish’s passing. Although she was a 40-year-old vegan who exercised regularly and never smoked, Trish was diagnosed with a form of lung cancer that was both rare and aggressive. As soon as I heard the news, I began rummaging through my mind for all the people who were more deserving candidates for early death: the chain smokers who’ve never been sick a day in their life; the convicted murderers who rot in prison cells until they’re 100-year-old; the child predators who walk the earth unnoticed and unpunished. Why were their lives spared at the expense of a brilliant student and fearless activist who worked hard, loved intensely, and fought valiantly for the rights of the vulnerable and the voiceless? It just didn’t seem fair.  I have also been forced to consider even deeper existential questions: What does it mean to live in a world where unmerited suffering and unpunished evil dance together so smoothly. Why is there such a large gap between what we get and and what we deserve?

Of course, I haven’t come up with any answers. Indeed, philosophers, theologians, and everyday people have sought answers to such questions since the beginning of time. What I’ve learned, however, is that all humans, irrespective of race, class, gender, or geography, are death eligible.  What I’ve also learned is that human life is a precious and fragile thing.  This means that we must live our lives as intensely, productively, and freely as possible.  It also means that, in our more spiritually mature moments, we must see the fallacy in wishing suffering upon others, even so-called bad people. Rather than asking “why?,” “why me?” or “why not them?,” all of which are perfectly human though ultimately futile questions, we must instead focus on loving, appreciating, and enjoying life for as long as we are fortunate enough to experience it.

Teen TV Habits Linked To Adult Depression

A study published in the Archives Of General Psychiatry found that teenagers who watch a lot of television are more likely to suffer depression as adults. What do you think?

Karen Bailey,
Systems Analyst
“So I did that wrong, too. Oh, God, I’ll never be happy.”

Pete McIntire,
Risk Management Manager
“Yeah, but a lot of them would be dead already if they hadn’t seen that very special episode of Full House about anorexia.”

Louis DeVita,
Retail Sales Consultant
“Doesn’t everyone just sort of get depression as an adult?”

Today’s photo of the day shows rapper DMX, who now faces an additional 8 years in prison for attacking a correctional officer. I’m sincerely worried about the brother.

Today’s video of the day is “Nike Boots” by Wale. The streets are reppin this cat hard. What do you think?

Despite all the hype, “Slumdog” delivers a patronizing and ultimately sham statement on social justice.

“Slumdog Millionaire”: A Hollow Message of Social Justice

By Mitu Sengupta

Danny Boyle’s “Slumdog Millionaire”, perhaps one of the most celebrated films in recent times, tells the rags-to-rajah story of a love-struck Indian boy, Jamal, who, with a little help from “destiny,” triumphs over his wretched beginnings in Mumbai’s squalid slums. Riding on a wave of rave reviews, “Slumdog” has now won Hollywood’s highest tribute, the Academy Award for Best Picture, along with seven more Oscars, including one for Best Director.

These honors will probably add some $100 million to “Slumdog’s” box-office takings, as Oscar wins usually do. They will also further enhance the film’s fast-growing reputation as an authentic representation of the lives of India’s urban poor. So far, most of the awards collected by the film have been accepted in the name of “the children,” suggesting that its own cast and crew regard it (and have relentlessly promoted it) not as a cinematically spectacular, musically rich and entertaining work of fiction, which it is, but as a powerful tool of advocacy. Nothing could be more worrying, as “Slumdog”, despite all the hype to the contrary, delivers a deeply disempowering narrative about the poor that thoroughly undermines, if not totally negates, its seeming message of social justice.

“Slumdog” has angered many Indians because it tarnishes their perception of their country as a rising economic power and a beacon of democracy. India’s English-language papers, read mainly by its middle classes, have carried many bristling reviews of the film that convey an acute sense of wounded national pride. While understandable, the sentiment is not defensible. Though at times embarrassingly contrived, most of the film’s heartrending scenarios are inspired by a sad, but well-documented reality.

Corruption is certainly rampant among the police, and many will gladly use torture, though none is probably dim enough to target an articulate, English-speaking man who is already a rising media phenomenon. Beggar-makers do round-up abandoned children and mutilate them in order to make them more sympathetic, though it is highly improbable that any such child will ever chance upon a $100 bill, much less be capable of identifying it by touch and scent alone.

For the rest of the story, click here.