I was still negotiating through high-tech America, consuming gasoline and plastic, rubber and steel, to accomplish the goals of my ordinary day. I was still - I slowly began to realize - insulated from my own raw need and humanity. I wasn't trudging into the bitter December afternoon on foot, feeling the wind scrape my face as I clutched my dust-coated 5-year-old, trying to reach a doctor. I had no hostile borders to cross, no armed hatred - no tear gas - to endure. I just wanted to get back online ASAP and continue writing about the wrongs of the world.