Post by Jaga on Sept 11, 2017 21:34:32 GMT -7
yes, I know it was written by a liberal, but it is quite good. Of course it is not in America that people are stuck in their bubbles. all around the world. My friend from Poland, who lived in Texas for several years and had a good job, sent me negative articles about the current pope, in spite of the fact that she is a good Catholic. At least she hopes I will change my view... I appreciate her perspective, but I think Francis is a great guy, but who knows..... 
www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/americans-are-stuck-in-bubbles-heres-a-way-to-pop-them/2017/09/11/2c682904-972c-11e7-87fc-c3f7ee4035c9_story.html?hpid=hp_no-name_opinion-card-d%3Ahomepage%2Fstory&utm_term=.a28ddbfe6cd6
Americans are stuck in bubbles. Here’s a way to pop them.
I once had a very close friend named Charlie. We spent every day together, and much of the night, too. I got to learn about his family and old neighborhood, and he got to learn about mine, and then one day I saw him no more. I went my way, and he went his, and it has been many years, but I remember him still. We had been in the Army together.
What provoked this thought is Houston and its devastation — and now Florida and the Caribbean. We have been repeatedly told and shown how people have pitched in to help one another. The poor helped the rich and the rich helped the poor, and people of all races rescued each other. In Texas, this was called the Texas spirit, and while my inclination is to mock and question everything about Texas, I will take a pass this time. The stories were convincing.
The storm, the flooding — the utter disaster — gave people a common problem and a common goal. It also reduced them to common socioeconomic status. After a while, people in trouble all look the same — wet, dirty, tired, often dazed. The storm throws them together and reduces them to the essential: people needing help, people looking to help. People. That’s it. People.
...
The Army did the same for me. I was 23, an erstwhile claims guy for an insurance company who had been plodding through college at night, six credits a semester. At Fort Dix and later Fort Leonard Wood, I got thrown in with country boys who had never had a toothbrush (the Army gave them false teeth) and tough city kids who strutted the barracks by day but cried for their mothers in their sleep at night.
...
Now the Army is for volunteers only. Now affluent kids go to schools and colleges with similar people and, afterward, work is usually not much different. They don’t know anyone who never used a toothbrush or cries in the night for his mother or speaks in a Southern accent so thick in molasses it might as well be a foreign language. These folks do not, in short, know America.
We are a segmented society, living in our individual bubbles. It has become even worse recently, with people able to choose their news according to their predilections. Conservatives watch Fox News and read Breitbart. Liberals watch MSNBC and read HuffPost. When we agree, it’s the truth; when we differ, it’s fake news.
...
www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/americans-are-stuck-in-bubbles-heres-a-way-to-pop-them/2017/09/11/2c682904-972c-11e7-87fc-c3f7ee4035c9_story.html?hpid=hp_no-name_opinion-card-d%3Ahomepage%2Fstory&utm_term=.a28ddbfe6cd6
Americans are stuck in bubbles. Here’s a way to pop them.
I once had a very close friend named Charlie. We spent every day together, and much of the night, too. I got to learn about his family and old neighborhood, and he got to learn about mine, and then one day I saw him no more. I went my way, and he went his, and it has been many years, but I remember him still. We had been in the Army together.
What provoked this thought is Houston and its devastation — and now Florida and the Caribbean. We have been repeatedly told and shown how people have pitched in to help one another. The poor helped the rich and the rich helped the poor, and people of all races rescued each other. In Texas, this was called the Texas spirit, and while my inclination is to mock and question everything about Texas, I will take a pass this time. The stories were convincing.
The storm, the flooding — the utter disaster — gave people a common problem and a common goal. It also reduced them to common socioeconomic status. After a while, people in trouble all look the same — wet, dirty, tired, often dazed. The storm throws them together and reduces them to the essential: people needing help, people looking to help. People. That’s it. People.
...
The Army did the same for me. I was 23, an erstwhile claims guy for an insurance company who had been plodding through college at night, six credits a semester. At Fort Dix and later Fort Leonard Wood, I got thrown in with country boys who had never had a toothbrush (the Army gave them false teeth) and tough city kids who strutted the barracks by day but cried for their mothers in their sleep at night.
...
Now the Army is for volunteers only. Now affluent kids go to schools and colleges with similar people and, afterward, work is usually not much different. They don’t know anyone who never used a toothbrush or cries in the night for his mother or speaks in a Southern accent so thick in molasses it might as well be a foreign language. These folks do not, in short, know America.
We are a segmented society, living in our individual bubbles. It has become even worse recently, with people able to choose their news according to their predilections. Conservatives watch Fox News and read Breitbart. Liberals watch MSNBC and read HuffPost. When we agree, it’s the truth; when we differ, it’s fake news.
...
