Schadenfreude and other consolations

The news is bad, catastrophe after catastrophe. Fascinated by the video clips, we send donations or messages to mitigate our Schadenfreude or sense of shame. Hard-pressed journalists and commentators in the media sometimes unwittingly reveal the hypocrisy of distant onlookers.  Larry Kudlow, host of CNBC's financial news, put his foot in his mouth in regard to the Japanese earthquake: The Markets are taking this in their stride," he announced. "The human toll here looks to be much worse than the economic toll, and we can be grateful for that." (He later added on Twitter: "I flubbed the line. Sincere apology.")

There was an earthquake felt here too, on Wednesday afternoon. Not like the Japanese one, just a small reminder, so that we felt for those people again.

We scour the media for news of an encouraging nature. The dignified and purposeful arrival of the Chinese team to help with the rescue work in Japan touched me. Not so long ago these nations were enemies.

On Wednesday there was a big fire at our local shops and I was there watching from a safe vantage point, like many others. One lady I know whose watch is forever lost in the jewelry repair shop said, "I stood there for a long time... I got lots of photos."

A recommendation for coping with bad news is to let ourselves be  "... fed with that which is eternal," as the early Quakers put it: James Nayler, 1653, or, like George Fox, to "know one another in that which is eternal, which was before the world was." But we still have to recognise what it is we're looking for.

I immerse myself in the turning of the seasons. I'm afraid it's escapism that keeps me sane. This week I made the discovery of a so-called Eagle Cam, set up in a pine tree in Norfolk, Virginia, that's trained on an eyrie, recording a pair of bald eagles nurturing their three chicks. This live news makes for much happier watching than the violence in Libya or Yemen or the Ivory Coast or Sudan. As I write this the male eagle is waiting for his mate to return from her mid-afternoon flight as the fluffy head of an eaglet peeps out from under his feathers.