Do you ever contemplate the fact that there are now people walking around, people going about their daily lives without a thought to the bigger things in the world, that are even now marked for death? People who aren't sick, who aren't at all anticipating it, but who are a part of the random casualties statistics we talk about with a sense of unreality. It seems like we're handing down a death sentence simply by condemning their deaths. There are people walking around now, people marked "17" or "12,382," the numbers they are gifted of the half a million numbers who may perish. It gives such a sense of futility to life.