Grazing on taboo grounds

Why is it that whenever we have a "home-grown terrorist," that person is depicted as a socially isolated loner or emotionally tormented person who suffers from mental illness, but when we have terrorists from other lands -- even those a stone's throw away -- they are organized criminals (or at least associated with some kind of organization, usually religious and/or political extremists) that are considered trained and calculated? Is there a difference between the two?

Is it because of race? Because of religion? Is it because we can "humanize" them by talking to neighbors/family/friends and show that he or she actually had a life? Or does it just make us feel better to tell ourselves and our kids that this person, though he or she may have lived in a suburb just like ours, is not the norm?

And where does the social norm play in these situations? There are many troubled citizens in today's cities. People are overly stressed and tired of the norm. People are tired of the paths their lives are taking, and want a way out. People are looking for their flock.

Because, like my Baby Girl will tell you as she sits guard watching over me, people are all sheep. We are all herd animals, associating ourselves with a clique or party or standard. Geek. Jock. Socialite. Gamer. It's easy to look back on school days and laugh at the social structures we set for ourselves. It's easy to say that in the real world -- with jobs and families and maturity -- we don't have time for those classifications. But ask the majority of U.S. citizens and they will quickly give you their political party, self-perceived economic class and prefered social habits. We may not stick to the labels or self-enforced dress codes we did in school (Acid-wash jeans? Mullets? Seriously?), but we surely will correct someone when they place us in the wrong classification.

Loner? Outcast? Bullied victim? Or just a lost sheep looking and listening for a flock. Listening is the key word there. When we don't fit in, we shut up and we listen. It's one of the first ways a new member of the flock finds it's mom. It listens. When it doesn't hear what it likes, it listens some more, and keeps listening till it finds a familiar voice. A tone that makes sense. And, unfortunately, there are a lot of radical and misleading wolves in sheep's clothing. Call it freedom of speech. Call it crying wolf too many times in a world of mass media. But these "tormented individuals," both from home and foreign lands, either find a flock to follow or die trying.

We might say it's easier to find a bad flock in some other pasture. We see organized meetings and marches on t.v. all the time. On the other hand, with our computers and radios and 600-channel cable feeds, maybe it's simply easier for lost sheep in America to find flocks without leaving the comfort of home. After all, the judging world they've grown to dislike is right outside the door.

New year, same old purpose in life...

Everyone starts new blogs the same way. They introduce themselves, say how they hope to keep posts frequent, and try to act like the professional columnist they've never had an ounce of training to be. They also try to give their life (or at least their blog) some purpose.

I am Miss Derie. I have a busy life managing multiple projects at a relatively large company here in the Midwest and wrangling people as much as possible to get those projects done. My husband Dick has been unemployed for over a year now; his industry a casualty in this lovely economy we're living in. He's supposed to be looking for a new job, in between his computer games and video games and whatever else he can use to procrastinate.

And while he's "looking," I support the house. By the state of things, he's definitely not the Mister Mom type. Luckily the only child we have at the moment has four legs and a shaggy tail. Baby Girl has been with me longer than Dick, and listens better, but she's okay with him as long as he treats me well - well, something to do with treats... I've yet to put her loyalty to the test.

This blog's purpose, or lack thereof, should be evident by the title at the top of the page. It goes along with my life, I guess. No topic is out of bounds; although some -- life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness -- will likely reign supreme while my mind looks to find peace in a world of chaos and current events.

Do I promise to be amusing? No. Do I promise to write frequently? Hell no. Is any of the above knowledge based on fact? Well, time can only tell.