FireAid and some thoughts...
FireAid and some thoughts...
I’m watching FireAid tonight, and I have a lot of thoughts. First—and least importantly—I have to say: Alanis Morissette is still fucking phenomenal. If anything, she’s only gotten better with time. On the flip side, it’s heartbreaking to see age catch up with Joni Mitchell. But despite everything, she commanded that arena. It wasn’t a note-for-note perfect performance, but it didn’t need to be—because I, along with so many others, was in tears.
Now, onto something heavier. As a nation, we need to do better. No matter our politics, just as human beings, we need to be better. Myself included. Watching clips of the destruction these fires left behind, listening to survivors talk about everything they lost—I was hit with a realization that should be obvious. These are people. That sounds like a "no shit" statement, but hear me out.
When the fires were raging, I hate to admit that I had thoughts like, “Do I really have it in me to feel sorry for these rich fucks who live in a state constantly wrecked by natural disasters?” And I’m ashamed of that. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been completely disabused of that ignorant notion. Do I have any love in my heart for the obscenely wealthy? No. But these fires didn’t just take from the ultra-rich. Countless regular people—people who worked their asses off—lost everything.
And while they try to pick up the pieces, the national government is playing political games with the aid they desperatelyneed. It’s fucking repugnant. Lately, I’ve been overwhelmed by sadness and rage—especially over this. Seeing how easily people write off those who’ve suffered made me stop and reflect on myself. How could I have felt anything other than complete empathy?
“Why care about them?” Because if the roles were reversed—if my family lost everything—I’d want people to give a shit about us, too.
And then you have the POTUS and his ilk using a natural disaster as a political weapon. Denying people aid because their political views are deemed "unacceptable" is grotesque. And yeah, I know people love to say, “There shouldn’t be a litmus test for compassion.” But honestly? Fuck that. There should be a baseline litmus test for humanity. If you see someone going through unimaginable hell, the bare minimum is feeling some goddamn empathy—and, if possible, doing something to help.
I know some people like to think we’ve "evolved" past the worst of human nature, but let’s be real. The vile shit we’re seeing today—the xenophobia, transphobia, misogyny, racism, nationalism—none of it is new. It didn’t show up last Tuesday. It’s always been there. The only difference now is that these people don’t feel the need to hide it anymore. Their dear leader gave them permission to be their worst selves out in the open.
But despite all of this, I am finding comfort in this concert. Seeing people from all walks of life come together in solidarity—it’s genuinely beautiful. Maybe I need to unplug for a while. I just needed to get these thoughts out while I could.