The media is awash in election minutia and the stores are filled with Christmas decorations (and other holiday paraphernalia, but the Christian celebration dominates). Despite rampant home foreclosures, plummeting financial markets, roller-coaster oil prices, people still seem oblivious to real life. American television is still chock-full of those unreal “reality” programs, and American magazines are crammed with ads for expensive gear, appliances, jewelry, furniture, and clothing.

Our culture is oblivious to the real suffering in the world. While we whine about not being able to afford mortgages we shouldn’t have had in the first place, a good portion of the world’s people do even have houses to lose.

I, myself, returned home whining from shopping today. A quest for socks. Just socks. Should be simple, right? Well, no. In their enduring goal for higher profits, companies have cut diversity and cut products lines that hint of a lower return. As a result, the world of retail for the masses has become cookie-cutter boring. Those high-end retailers show some imagination, even it is trendy, but so who can afford that stuff?

The American consumer has been split into two categories, just like American politics: the wealthy and privileged who can afford a variety of unique and aesthetic items, and then you have the rest of us. Middle class does not exist. Art objects and exquisitely handmade items are financially out of reach for the majority of us.

So while I am whining about the endless rows of white, pink, or black cheaply made-in-China ankel socks, and no beige, rust, or brown colored ankle socks, I turned on the computer to check my e-mail and happened upon a news story.

A 13-year-old girl was stoned to death in Somalia on October 27. This punishment took place in a stadium and 1000 people watched. She was accused of committing adultery after being gang-raped. The press first reported that she was 23, and later her father said she was only 13.

Does it matter how old she was? What is in the souls of the 1000 people who watched? How can anyone who knew about this beforehand sleep at night? How do any of the people who condone this horror have the right to still be alive on this planet?

And most important, does it matter what color my socks are? Can I find something else to engage my angst? Perhaps I can turn my attention to figuring out how to save women and children who fall prey and die from torture at the hands of ignorant, evil men.

I don’t know if there is an afterlife, but if there is I hope that Aisha Ibrahim Duhulow finds peace and joy and that the horror she suffered both during the rape and during her trial and painful execution becomes an endless nightmare for those who participated.