And so we go on, as if nothing has happened, a little more jumpy, a gentle sullenness perhaps but we go on.
I was at Kings Cross today, one of the stations worst effected by the bombing as I use the Thameslink to get down to London Bridge and then my bus home, and I was stopped by one of the vultures.
And by vulture I mean one of those many media types circling the bomb sites across London so they can feed our never ending craving for news, news, news. The poor young journalist with her TV crew made the mistake of stopping me and asking me what I thought (this was just after I'd nearly vomited at all the camera men trying to get good angles on the flowers that are tied to the railings at the station) about the whole messy episode.
I let her know what I thought. No need to repeat it, you've read it all here. I closed with the request that the vultures fuck off and leave us to our lives without the constant simulacra pouring out from the TV screens: interviews with victims, the families of victims, the footage shot by victims, the desperate please for anyone with first hand footage to send it in. ANYTHING TO BE THERE!
It's verging on the masturbatory.
I have two questions for you about yesterday's events: why did it happen now and whom does it benefit? Does the 7/7 date stamp have any relevance?
I'm having difficulty with the first, the event still does not sit as cosy with me as it should. As for the second, I can't be the first to note that the number 7 plays an important part in the history of the Koran, the seven readers who handed down the seven basic texts. That's just so heavy handed it almost makes me want to adjust my tin-foil hat...
I'm linking to a new blog because he's funny and his blogger picture is the best I've ever seen, the man in question is Old Man Rich. Rejoice in his mental health issues!
I've also discovered that you can up load any old picture onto blogger now so without further ado here is my wife to be Marie...