Born to Run...

Well damn...

I'm not a great horse-racing fan... we watch the three Triple-Crown races and that's about it, but still, there's something very noble about a racing horse. My wife owns a horse, and has been around them much of her life, and has always said that thoroughbreds are different -"nuts" she says, mostly, but different. Bred to run. And they love to run. Anyone who read Laura Hillenbrand's book about Seabiscuit got an idea of it. They enjoy racing.

George Bush and your average race horse are the two simplest higher-life forms on the planet, the main difference being that race horses don't get their kicks from hurting others. You have to admire that. Race horses may be somewhat batty (they are over-bred) but they are also very noble. So it is supremely sad to see one injured during a race, and sadder still to know that the injury may not only be career-ending (as it most certainly is) but life-ending.

I dunno. Call me stupid. Thousands of people die all around the world every day, and I get sentimental over a race horse. But the human race, for better or worse, has made it's own bed. That's another story. A simple horse that simply wanted to race and now cannot understand what is happening, that's another.

I don't know why.

It just is.

Hopefully he will be all right. I'll keep checking the news tonight. I'm sure that's a completely absurd set of priorities, but with humans cooking the planet and blowing each other up without a thought, who the fuck cares? Maybe Life is the simple things.