A few months ago I watched a rerun of perhaps the most moving episodes of the West Wing, “20 Hours in America”, in which a pipe bomb kills 44 students at a Midwest University. Martin Sheen, playing President Bartlett gives the following speech:
More than any time in recent history, America’s destiny is not of our own choosing. We did not seek nor did we provoke an assault on our freedom and our way of life. We did not expect nor did we invite a confrontation with evil. Yet the true measure of a people’s strength is how they rise to master that moment when it does arrive. 44 people were killed a couple of hours ago at Kennison State University. Three swimmers from the men’s team were killed and two others are in critical condition. When, after having heard the explosion from their practice facility, they ran into the fire to help get people out. Ran into the fire. The streets of heaven are too crowded with angels tonight. They’re our students and our teachers and our parents and our friends. The streets of heaven are too crowded with angels, but every time we think we have measured our capacity to meet a challenge, we look up and we’re reminded that that capacity may well be limitless. This is a time for American heroes. We will do what is hard We will achieve what is great. This is a time for American heroes and we reach for the stars. God bless their memory, God bless you and God bless the United State of America.
The speech gave me patriotic goose bumps but even more memorable was, “I Don’t Like Mondays”, sung by Tori Amos which played in the background. This song was originally written by Bob Geldof of the Boomtown Rats in the late 70’s.
One morning in 1979 a 16-year-old California girl named Brenda Spencer took out the rifle she’d been given for her birthday by her father, and loaded it. Her home happened to be across the street from an elementary school, so she aimed the gun out the window and started firing. By the time police had broken into her home, raced up the stairs, and stopped her, she’d killed the principal, a kid, and a teacher, and injured sixteen kids. Things like that didn’t happen back then, despite the ready availability of guns and violent TV. The police, of course, asked her why she’d done this. She replied “It was something to do. I don’t like Mondays”. The Boomtown Rats were touring the United States when this tragedy occurred and quickly wrote a song which became an overnight hit everywhere in the world except the United States which banned the song.
The album, “The Fine Art of Surfacing” in which Bob Geldof’s song was released is perhaps one of the best albums ever released. It is an album which was released in the era where the lyrics of rock songs were like poems — not devoid of meaning. Few bands today release albums with lyrics that are worth listening to let alone buying. The Boomtown Rats is a forgotten band who were brilliant when they innovated, but never even remotely needed to.
Brenda Spencer was denied parole for the third time on March 15, 2005.
Lyrics
The silicon chip inside her head
gets switched to overload
and nobody’s gonna go to school today
she’s gonna make them stay at home
And Daddy doesn’t understand it
He always said she was good as gold
And he can see no reason
Cos there are no reasons
What reasons do you need to be shown
[Chorus:]
Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
I want to shoot
The whole day down
The telex machine is kept so clean
and it types to waiting world.
And Mother feels so shocked
Father’s world is rocked
And their thoughts turn to
Their own little girl
Sweet 16 ain’t that peachy keen
No it ain’t so neat to admit defeat,
They can see no reasons
Cos there are no reasons
What reasons do you need to be shown
[Repeat Chorus]
All the playing’s stopped in the playground now
She wants to play with her toys awhile
And school’s out early and soon we’ll be learning
That the lesson today is how to die
And then the bullhorn crackles
And the captain tackles
With the problems and the how’s and why’s
And he can see no reasons
Cos there are no reasons
What reasons do you need to die
[Repeat Chorus]