infancy.

I obliged myself to not turn this blog into a political rant, but I must confess I have been up in arms about the bailout of the financial markets of late – keeping a close eye on the minute-by-minute updates, relieved when the House morally voted it down on Monday, enraged when the Senate passed it on Wednesday (one of my senators voted no, but I presume only because the Democrats already had the numbers, allowing her to vote her conscious) and then resigned when the House of course passed it this morning, followed quickly with W. signing it into law. I must confess I have never directly contacted my senators and representative in Congress until now, but over the past week I've placed multiple calls and have sent numerous emails, taking note of the roll call for each vote.

I am convinced from all that I have read that this will do little to stop the credit crisis, and that only time (in all of its infinite wisdom) will revive the markets once the housing market has finally settled. That this legislation will only reward those very same companies guilty of vindictive and predatory lending practices, while doing nothing to help the millions and millions of foreclosures and failing housing market that are at the root of the crisis.

I realize it is a complex topic, and in keeping with my oath to avoid political posts, I instead am brought back to thinking of Carl Sagan's eloquence and his idea that permeates much of his writings, where he says of those of us that have succeeded and colonized other worlds and are left gazing back to Earth ~ 

They will marvel at how vulnerable the repository of all our potential once was, how perilous our infancy, how humble our beginnings, how many rivers we had to cross before we found our way.

This notion that we – the human race – are young, foolish, naîve. That we have much to learn, and his hopes we would do so before wiping ourselves out. I am not wholly convinced we will, but hopeful.

Hopeful that somehow, someway, someday .... we will indeed find our way.