There should be characters and situations that we cannot identify with, that retain either too much horror or too much wonder to allow for simple identification. That feels to me like an accurate depiction of what it is like to be in the world, rather than a neutered register of continual empathy.
In Selma, Alabama, in 1965, only 2.1 percent of blacks of voting age were registered to vote. The only place you could attempt to register was to go down to the courthouse. You had to pass a so-called literacy test. And they would tell people over and over again that they didn’t or couldn’t pass the literacy test.
All of the off-field stuff, I can promise you, it doesn’t even register with me.
History is indeed little more than the register of the crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind.
If you don’t register to vote, politicians don’t really care about you: politicians aren’t really caring about what you have to say, what you have to do, anything.
People often ask me if my parents helped me. My mother did lend me $10 to register the domain name.
When developing countries go to the WTO and register their protest over things, they should be heard. Their views should be considered by the rich countries.
