The stars and the wars

Madison, WI, 11/13/2015

The night after the attacks in Paris, before the arguments started in earnest about What Should Be Done, I went to a play. I went alone, because that is what you do when you want to see something but don't have a lot of room to coordinate with other people, and are relatively secure in being a person alone in public.

I had a front row seat. The play made me cry. I dabbed at my eyes with my sleeve for the entire second act. An actor mentions Paris in a context unrelated to current events; the audience sighs and murmurs.

A conversation, paraphrased:
A: "Doesn't the war make the stars irrelevant?"
B: "Don't the stars make the war irrelevant?"

The curtain call was awkwardly close, I'm sure half the actors could see my smeary eyelashes.

The play made me cry because it was about space, and science, and people working against a society that doesn't welcome their work, and the things people can achieve, individually and collectively, when they are bent on doing great things. The set was full of stars. Everything was very beautiful. Both the stars and the wars are relevant.