"How did you ever survive?!"

I had been without power at the house since just before Memorial Day. It's back on as of last night. People keep saying, "How did you ever survive?!" and "I don't know how you can stand that." and other such dribble.

I grew up with grandparents who lived under the poverty level. Their house didn't have electricity, and it only had running water from a gravity pump that would occasionally need hand priming. There was a small ceramic wood/coal stove in the bathroom and that's where hot bathwater came from. By which I mean you'd boil it in a pot and dump it into the tub. They had an outhouse, which is still there and still in use even though the house now has proper indoor plumbing.

My mother was on welfare for a good portion of my childhood, and back then there were no utility subsidies, so we used as little as possible. Lights were on for about an hour in the summer, from 8-9, and then they were out.

So I didn't have lights at night and didn't have my computer or internet access at home for two weeks. So what? Really, that's people's idea of hardship, when there are whole families that are homeless and starving? I have internet access at work, I could bring the laptop to Starbuck's or, hell, McDonald's, if I needed a fix. I used my iPod Touch to read e-books at night until I was tired, or a camping lantern if I just had to read a regular paper book. The hot water heater runs on gas, so I was able to shower just fine, and laundry got done at That Guy's - but if he hadn't offered, I could have gone to a laundromat with no problem.

This is not hardship. It was an annoyance, certainly. It restricted my nighttime activities a bit, but not a lot.

I'm surprised and disgusted that this is considered something dire enough to moan and wail about.

Iran.

I haven't said anything about the Iran elections or the protests yet because most of what I'm feeling hasn't distilled into coherent words. There's just spluttering outrage and fury around a dead calm center of worry. It's like watching a tornado that hasn't quite touched down yet. It's massive and terrifying, has the potential for massive destruction that would obliterate all in its path and you can see how very close it is to doing that.. but it hasn't quite touched down yet. I'm morbidly curious whether it will touch down or whether it will blow over, leaving just an unusual sunset in its wake.

Ahmadinejad's government is swooping in on protesters, arresting them, shooting some of them, holding the Reformist leaders under house arrest. Text messages, mobile phone communications, and access to social networking sites have all been throttled to the point of uselessness in an attempt to keep people from organizing. Newspapers are being censored, foreign journalists are being arrested, threatened, beaten, shut down. All Ahmadinejad has to say about this is: "[d]on't worry about freedom in Iran... Newspapers come and go and reappear. Don't worry about it."

If this is your idea of a "completely free" election, Mr. Ahmadinejad, then you need a brief lesson in the definition of the words "free" and "republic".

According to an online English to Farsi translation, "can not stop the signal" is
نمی تواندعلامت توقف بکند - being an online translation, I expect that probably reads "your traffic sign smells of elderberries" or something.. but I'm going to pretend. I think the way the news is leaking out no matter how many attempts the Iranian government makes at stopping it.. is a blatant symbol of which party truly won that election.

The saddest part of all is that it doesn't matter. If Ahmadinejad stays in power, there will be grumbling of a stolen election. If the protesters rip the country apart and put in a new government, there will still be a stolen election. The only way to fix it would be to hold an entirely new election with a definitive and transparent ballot count.