It seemed like a sort of flashback; explosions, billowing clouds of smoke and debris, and a chaotic scramble as terrified civilians ran every which way in an effort to escape a threat that they couldn’t see, but seemed to be everywhere around them. The images captured from the bombing of the Boston Marathon show us bloodied innocents being tended by first responders or complete strangers, tears and destruction. Any one of those photos would fit with others from another day, one September, seemingly at once a long time ago and yesterday.

The bombings in Boston and our reactions in the aftermath show us just how much has changed since September 11th, 2001, and how little. And, without minimizing the tragedy of the 3 lives lost thus far, and the countless others scarred and changed forever by this attack, I can’t help but look to find the deeper meaning within these last few days, maybe just as many others are doing themselves.
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The Song Remains the Same

Six months have passed since my last post, quite nearly to the day, and I find myself regarding an image on my screen of a beautiful young woman who ended her life short because of the strain of the torment she was being subjected to by her peers. Like last time. Like Amanda Todd, whom I wrote about the last time I sat in front of this keyboard, trying to find words sufficient to express my disappointment in a humanity becoming less humane, and a world far more cruel.
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