When the violinist was about to play an encore tonight, he said “May the hostages be freed soon,” and I almost cried.  Hostages is the word we’re using all the time, but the word is “snatched,” “kidnapped,” and although I never allow myself to reread what I wrote before I’m sure this has troubled me more than once.  Maybe even yesterday.   In fact, it is on my mind all the time.  Like genocide.  Genocide is a deliberate and methodical massacre over time.  We don’t see what others claim see all around the world – close-up murder of civilians.  Television time is all about the war, but it devotes it to showing reserve-duty guys whose business needs a big boost from clients, women who became single parents full time while their husbands endangered their lives defending their country.  It’s mostly about the people, helping them cope, but it’s also about how the government isn’t functioning and how the army is trying to avoid civilian casualties while behaving heroically.  It’s a weak attempt to gives us an outlet and calm us down at the same time, and many of us are addicted.