I reread a post (there are so many of them now!) that I thought was worthy of reposting. You can always do a search for the original at the top of your page to find the date.
Here it is:
RISK
What is it about risk that bothers me? One look at ClimbRocker's Blog reminds me that riding a bike is risky. Why would any sane person mount a bike in this city? But that’s me. I’m averse to risk but fascinated by people who take risks. I’m the first to latch onto a program like “I Shouldn’t be Alive.”
No, you shouldn’t be alive, you asshole, because you wandered up into some wilderness not telling anyone where you were going, and furthermore brought your ten-year-old son.
But people still bungie-jump, parachute from airplanes and climb mountains, seemingly totally oblivious to one fact: when you die, it’s all gone; no more swimming in the Great Barrier Reef patting manta rays — just the great chasm of death.
Risk. Yes. Risk. But the eternal gamble, against the ultimate price: is it truly worth it? For you? Guess what, everyone around you is affected when you plunge down the rock face and get severe head injuries. You’re just the poor apologising schmuck in the hospital bed going through months of rehabilitation.
Same goes for the idiot that gets in a car and drag races someone, or rides a motorcycle without a helmet.
Come to think of it, every time I see a daredevil crash his plane at an air show, I think, wow, kid, you finally did good.
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