I believe I can make a difference outside of my four walls; so much good within my reach. I’m on the mailing list for ONE.org to stop kicking poor nations while they’re down. I live 3 blocks away from the local Food & Care Coalition. I tip generously if they don’t scowl and mutilate voodoo dolls in front of me at restaurants. I refrain from flashing the international “You’re number .1.” hand signal on the freeway when just edging behind and clipping the corner of their bumper will do. I cheer up my neighbor dog because he obviously doesn’t get much love. And I’m now sharing just the thumping bass register of my new stereo with my upstairs neighbor.

So it’s time for to me own up to my omissions and to feel guilty about all that I do other than actively making a positive effect in the world. Not only do I push around emails for a living, on my own time I squander my talents and good health on movies, video games, and music. I can’t even squander myself on genuinely destructive things to really live it up. I have so much teeming misanthropy to act on, and it can’t be that much of a stretch to reach out and truly grief the people I pass every day. When I’m turning left I can pretend to not see the little green arrow until it’s turning yellow, then leave the cars behind me stuck in place. Then late at night on lone deserted highways I can forget to switch to my low beams for oncoming traffic. I can accidentally spam people with massive attachments and do infinitely recursive quotes when I troll on the forums. Maybe my effect on the world isn’t so inert after all.