I love TV

"Do the crossword for me," says my mother, pointing to the New York Times heap dated July 24, 2006 sitting on the table in front of us.
The television is off, finally, which allows us to focus our attention elsewhere, after serving as a desensitizing window to the Israeli-Hezbollah conflict.
Six days ago, when the coverage of the fighting was almost a week more novel than it is today, I was unable to convince a Jewish friend of mine that Israel's attack on Lebanon was undeserved - at the time some 200 Lebanese had died because a group they didn't necessarily agree with and which certainly did not represent them as a nation had kidnapped two Israeli soldiers. She agreed with everything I posed as reasons for Israel not bombing Lebanon back "twenty years" (as an Israeli general-type said), but could not bring herself to seeing why those reasons added up to Israel not defending themselves after years of "this sort of thing" (she didn't say exactly that, so the quotes are more paraphrasing than direct quotation). That was 6 days ago, when the news coverage and the whole issue had seemed important.*
I realized, 3 days ago (deathcount in Lebanon ~325 people), that, if I had approached a Muslim friend about the conflict, he/she and I would have disagreed as well - he/she would have disparaged Israel's attacks to an absurd extent, at which point, I would find myself defending Israel, its people, and their, fairly understandable, desire to live outside of constant fear.
Today I saw what seemed to be the result of Israeli use of phosphorus in their aircraft-based bombings. Apparently, the chemical is banned by several treaties concerning which weapons are acceptably terrible and which ones cross into unacceptable terribleness, but nevertheless, there were 2 Lebanese kids on TV, suffering from phosphorus burns that, if they survive, will scar them for life.
As I watched that, I dunked my fries (I take two at a time to justify a more sizable sauce dunking) and, as I ate the fries, made a note to myself to add more Tabasco to the sauce mixture next time. The Lebanese kids continued their crying, leaving tear trails where the ointment was carried away by the saline drops running down their faces. I left the TV room once my food was finished. The news reported that another bomb had gone off in an Israeli kibbutz while I was disposing of my food tray. The news coverage by this time was almost as novel as the proceedings of Afghanistan's democratic government.

* Looking back, I think I meant amenable to change rather than pressing or dire.