Am I hard-hearted, or just experiencing a natural reaction to force-fed sentimental voyeurism?
Various media have 'advertised' to me that tomorrow is the anniversary of the February Christchurch earthquake and what their associated publicity ventures will be. How they will track personal outcomes, talk to those who lost loved ones, those who rescued survivors, those who left Christchurch, those who went to Christchurch...
Sorry. I'm not interested.
Christchurch has gone through a terrible time. Terrible. Many of us have made individual practical demonstrations of our sympathy. Silly slogan-like statements like, "...we haven't forgotten you Christchurch" get on my nerves. If I lived there I would be sick to death of people flying in, telling me how much they empathise, and flying out.
And why agonise on an anniversary anyway? Real care is ongoing.
The commemoration of tragedy, not confined to Christchurch by any means, is starting to take on a strange religiosity in a largely secular country. Perhaps it fulfils the same emotional need that collective worship does. Whatever. It is an emotional need I am obviously devoid of.
The Allure of Catastrophe Bonds
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