That's about the extent of my knowledge of Pakistan. I must also admit that I know very little about world politics, or politics in general. I'm not exactly proud of this, but there's a limit to hours in the day and knowledge that I can try to pour or pound into one head in those allotted hours, and knowing about constitutional law and how to read balance sheets and Pink Floyd's back catalog and the best way to get out a bloodstain has taken precedence over politics in my life. I vote for the Dems or, if I find the Dem candidate a creepy liar, for the third party guy, and I hope for the best and work for the few little changes in the law I have brain space to deal with, and I leave the Big Deep Thought to Big Deep Thinkers who are getting degrees in international whatsit or simply enjoy reading The Economist more than I do.
I am thinking about Benazir Bhutto because years ago, when I still watched 60 Minutes regularly (that was a very very long time ago, before Mike Wallace and Andy Rooney morphed into tiresome annoying old men - I believe one of the last episodes I saw was Andy Rooney bitching about people being upset over Kurt Cobain's suicide. I wrote him one of the large pile of nastygrams displayed on the next broadcast, not because I was madly in love with Kurt Cobain, I wasn't a grunge fan, it kind of killed the glam resurgence that I liked in fact, and the drug stuff, ick ick ick, but that was someone's kid, it was someone's husband, it was someone's dad, and I figured Andy could just keep his mean old man mouth shut about it on national TV thank you very much) but anyway I remember watching how Benazir went to Harvard and she went to Oxford and then she went back home and went to prison. Like it was her job, as it kind of was, the Family Business. And then she got out eventually, and lived in exile for years, and ultimately went back to the place that had killed her whole family before her, and now has killed her. Obviously she didn't have to have that kind of a life. With her education and wealth she could have done many things. But she chose that life, knowing what would probably happen, and it did, and. And. That's that.
Asking why is pointless, because when a person makes a choice like that, it's because in their mind, it was the only intelligent choice; the clearly right thing to do. So here I sit thinking about what I would die for. It's a bit of a comfort, to think of it being For something, but in the end, Ded is Ded and it's the same result regardless of whatever greater meanings may attach - meanings that most of the rest of the world do not contemplate or appreciate at all. As the Gang of Four sed (the band, stupid, I just told you I was apolicktical- anyway I think they stole it from Conrad), We live as we dream, alone. Ultimately, we die pretty much that way, too.