As London Burns
Politics July 7th, 2005
In Spring, I hoped to travel to London. I wanted to see why people become so bewitched by that city. I remember a girl (and I do mean girl) in my public speaking class gave a speech about the trains that snaked beneath the streets, in an almost magical way. Those same trains burned today, as well as a double decker bus. Those two symbols of London gave birth not to magic and mirth, but to fear.
I don’t know what the outcome is going to be from this bombing. What I do know is that no one should be surprised and everyone should be dismayed. This is a world of our creation. Aren’t we all just so proud?
I hope that those that passed did so quicky, without fear or pain. And I hope those that survived will find it in their hearts to change things, to make a world where bombs and fear are inefficent weapons.
I am a pacifist. While I talk a lot of shit about kicking someone’s ass here, or offing someone there, it’s never serious. I don’t believe in war. I never have. And I don’t think that bombs are the solution to anything. They just make the wounds of the world deeper.
About
I passed through Kings Cross station on the way to Gatwick Airport about 24 hours prior to this morning’s attack. Technically, I guess that could make me a suspect in the attacks. However, I was on the Victoria line rather than the Piccadilly line where the second attack occurred. And had these attacks occurred at the same time Wednesday, my train would never have made it to Kings Cross anyway.
I had a great time in London and wished I could stay a little longer. Now, not so much.
I thought of you when I heard about the attacks. I am glad you are unscathed. Welcome home.
I would put good money down that they had something ready in Paris incase the olympics were set to be there. It is a great mind-fuck to more weak-minded people that they can do that, right when they want to. But they are still cowards who don’t have a real clue how to actually change the world. I want to live in London. Tali and I may go in a few years.
Oh, when you said (and I do mean girl) what the hell did you mean?
Well…a girl. 18ish. Pony-tails. Niave. A fondness for shock-tactics that don’t work on those who used them 10 years ago. Sweet kid, but a kid none the less. Speaking more about maturity than sex.