In Rome, at the Spanish Steps, everything seemed normal as a few men and women went up and down, going wherever they happened to be going. It was a grey, overcast day set against the grim stone of the steps and the fountain at their base. That was until thousands of plastic multi-color play pen balls were dumped from the tops of the steps. First, a cascade of red bounced down the right side, followed seconds later by a blend of green and yellow from the left. It sounded like a hollow rain storm as 500,000 plastic balls tumbled down what have been referred to as “the longest and widest staircase in all Europe.” Some pedestrians ran in fear, others stared in awe as the tide flowed harmlessly by them. The video documenting the event shows an old man reach down, pick up two handfuls of red playpen balls and throw them up into the air like confetti, a look of pure joy on his wrinkled face as he played in the world’s largest ball pit.

Guerilla artist Graziano Cecchini, who dished out nearly $30,000 for the feat, was promptly arrested, stating that he did it to raise awareness for the plight of the Karen and Burmese people and that the balls represented the lies of politicians.

Cecchini bought enough balls to fill 11 unfurnished RIT dorm rooms up to five feet in multicolored fascination. He also spent enough money to pay tuition for a year.

Upon first glimpse, it looked like fun. It was more of a light-hearted prank than a political statement. Granted, many people were outraged at the stunt. Feedback on news sites ranging from tirades about the waste of money to workers who were late for work due to road blocks in light of the stunt, to en masse littering concerns.

If you ask me, there are much worse things Cecchini could have rolled down those stairs (last June a man drove a Toyota Celica down the same steps, terrorizing pedestrians and damaging several of the landmark steps). It’s just hard to get angry about playpen balls. Especially in light of his attribution of their meaning to the plight in Burma, there is certainly a “love not war” connotation to the stunt.

There’s such a peaceful, almost Buddhist, thing about ball pits. They just repel anger, it seems. Out of curiosity, I’ve been looking into xkcd-inspired ball pits, almost as a vacation from current events. Yes, we have been in Iraq for five years. Yes, Obama is still black. Yes, Spitzer paid (too much) for a call girl. Most stirring to me, however, is what little news is escaping Tibet.

I’ve had a complex relationship with China over the past year or so. Every vilifying thing that escapes from their politicians’ mouths concerning the Dalai Lama offends me greatly. Having witnessed Tenzin Gyatso at the University of Buffalo in Fall 2006 for a Reporter assignment, it was clear that the man couldn’t harm a fly, let alone convince another human to harm a fly.

In the Dalai Lama’s current position I would breathe fire and break chains and scream until my lungs collapsed. But all that negativity doesn’t help the Tibetan plight or even progress their culture in any way. Meanwhile, the Dalai Lama remains peaceful and calm. My disgust at the situation converts to internal unrest in light of my hypocrisy. I don’t know how to hide my anger as I watch China destroy a culture and create policy that may cause Tenzin Gyatso to be the last of the Dalai Lamas. (Bear with me, we’re getting back to ball pits. I promise.)
I have gone so far as to try and sympathize with China by putting myself in their shoes, but their strongest and (only argument) for maintaining sovereignty over Tibet is that “Tibet is part of China.” I have nowhere to look for corroboration but the American Civil War. After all, before slavery was thrown to the forefront of our history books, the Union’s best argument was “The South is part of the United States”. But the South wasn’t exactly peaceful in their dissent. Few parallels can be drawn.

It wasn’t until I came back to the video of Cecchini’s stunt several times that I found a way to balance out the forces pulling on me. Instead of imagining Chinese politicians literally and violently choking on their words, and successful-yet-violent uprisings and other un-Tibetan actions I have come to this conclusion. If I had the means, I would fly over China with fleets of airplanes and bury Shanghai and Beijing in millions upon millions of plastic play pen balls.