It's a sad state of affairs in the world today. Being a news junkie, I can usually gauge the tensions by how much it affects my thought patterns. For the first time since the tsunami during Boxing Week 2004, I find myself waking up in the night and wondering what the latest news is.

My friend lives in Jerusalem. He puts on a brave face, rarely showing stress over the environment he resides. His emails are of what we all concern ourselves with. Chosing a new home, his family's day to day health, work stress and the latest movie premiere. Normal existence. But those are changing now. There is an edge to every message. Today, upon hearing that a suicide bomber attempted to enter his work building but was mercifully caught before he could do any damage, he finally sounded scared. He makes this latest crisis real to me. A funny, gregarious guy who taught us Hebrew songs while sipping Israeli wine on a British train on the way to Cambridge.

Then I think of the little Lebanese cafe I love here in Vancouver. Konafa to die for. Mmmm...I can taste it right now. I had a scallop-saffron dish there once that was beyond anything describable. The people who own that cafe are such friendly, vibrant folks. A Dad, Mom, son and two daughters. Always with a gleam in their eye and a story to tell. Their son, an incurable flirt, will often fall over himself trying to chat with my Iranian friend who I often dine with. He'll use the worst pick up lines...'Didn't I see you in the Tripoli market last May?' How is their family? Are they caught up in this?

These are the faces, the people of this crisis. They hurt. They bleed. They're people, just like us, who happen to be born in a place that is much more complicated than the one we in North America know.

This morning, I was lamenting on how sad this was when a coworker said the most shocking thing.

'Maybe if World War 2 had ended differently, we wouldn't have to worry about this today. If only Germany had finished it's job'.

What the hell kind of mind even thinks that? It makes me sick. I looked at him in pure digust, not daring to open my mouth to what I wanted to say.

He continued. 'Oh, sorry, are you Jewish?'

'No', I sputtered, 'But I am human'.

I fear for a world who has people in it that actually think this way though. Sadly, I know he's not alone.