Its been the summer of terrorism and now it seems we will have the fall of terrorism. And it seems that when a person tries to kill as many strangers as he or she possibly can in some horrific way, I have no words for my blog.
Sorry. Its become a pattern I’ve fallen into. We’ve had so many terrorist attacks that I have a pattern in the aftermath. That alone is heartbreaking. But I’ve noticed that this blog has a large European readership/commentor-ship and I’ve noticed that when things literally blow up over there (again with the heartbreaking familiarity) they go silent too.
I completely understand. There are no words.
Yesterday I had planned to write a humorous post about how I am in the middle of knitting a gift for a friend and she has recently come to me and asked me to knit her something. Something else. Because she doesn’t know that I’m already knitting something for her.
But then I came home and found that bombs were going off in Manhattan dumpsters and fake security guards were stabbing people in Minnesota. After reading that news, I couldn’t write. I just picked up my knitting.
Today I was going to write a post that advocated jailing all the self-appointed word police, or at the very least, ignoring them until they wither and die. You see I had read too much news the day before and had had quite enough of being told we shouldn’t ask for prayers for the victims, and how we can’t call man-made devices left in dumpsters that explode on command bombs until some authorized person tells us we can call them bombs. That post was not going to be very humorous, was probably going to be quite bitchy. I wasn’t 100% certain that I’d have allowed myself to hit the Publish button on that one but I planned to really going to enjoy writing it.
But of course I checked the news first and found that more devices had been located, this time by homeless men digging through the trash. Those men, those forgotten men, risked their lives to hand carry the devices over 1000 yards to get them away from people and buildings. Then they went to a police station to report what they had found.
Yeah. After reading that story of true selflessness, I didn’t much care about pipsqueak jerkoffs who try and dictate what we can and can’t say. I just picked up my knitting.
I have no words, not really. So I’ll just knit a while.