There are moments in life when people across the planet come together to celebrate a triumph of the human spirit. To experience the feelings of selfless compassion and true oneness that is all too rare in contemporary society.
And this week was one such occasion. Like so many American citizens, I sat in awe and gratitude, watching 33 Chilean miners being rescued from their unimaginable hell half a mile inside the earth.
It was enormously heartwarming to see wives and mistresses coming together as one, to celebrate the torture they planned to inflict upon these incredibly brave, slutty men.
It was gratifying beyond words to see jaded journalists tearing up without the aid of a bottle of glycerine and a $500 a day makeup artist, as they turned to their cameramen and marveled that they wouldn’t have to put on their “frowny-faces”.
And what could match the sheer unbridled emotion of a ring of Armani-suited agents, standing just out of camera range, Montblanc pens poised seductively over contracts for book and movie deals?
It’s the kind of thing that really makes me believe in the brotherhood of man.