From BBC news: More than 30 die in London blasts.
My first response was to check the date. My brother is still on holiday at home. So that’s good on the family front. Then it hit home that 30 or more people have probably died. I can’t describe how relieved yet saddened I am. It feels insufficient to say that I have the greatest sympathy for those who have lost their loved ones. I get this disjointed feeling when I hear about things like that (and not just in the western world, but also when the multiple reports of bombs in Iraq come through). I keep hoping I’ve heard wrongly, that estimates of the dead are wrong, that somehow, these innocents have survived. It’s not happened yet, and I’m not inured to the shock either. Soon, the anger will come, but not all directed at the bombers.
I’m with chicken yoghurt on this. First, let’s not jump to conclusions. Second, whatever the findings are, we cannot tar entire racial, national or religious groups with the same inhumane brush. It makes me mad that people will use bombings like this to justify their deep-held prejudices about people not like themselves.