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Waking up to news of explosions and death is not pleasant, even when it's not happening in your own country. I've gotten used to hearing of the constant news of bombings in Iraq, but hearing of the explosions in London this morning was jarring to say the least. On my trip to work, I listened to CBC Radio 1's news coverage, which pre-empted their usual info-talk show. The host was interviewing a woman by phone who had been on one of the trains, and her account was lucid and harrowing. The worst part, to her, was being in the stopped train, in the darkness after the explosion, wondering what might come next—perhaps a fire?—and everyone trying to stay calm until it became possible to exit the train and make their way through the Tube to the surface.

I was very glad to read the LJ posts of my British correspondents, to learn they were all right (even though I knew that at least one doesn't live in London, if not both).

I made the comment to Wolf, in e-mail, "Never thought I'd say that Detoit's utterly hopeless mass transit was a plus." Not that terrorists couldn't find something else to blow up if they wanted, say, a freeway interchange. That's the problem with terrorists: you don't know where they're going to show up next.

There has been some good commentary already on LJ. I haven't read much commentary in the mainstream press yet; that'll probably come for me tonight. Me, I'm not sure what I think. In general I feel sad about the London bombings, and the overall state of the world where this sort of thing happens far too frequently. There's something beyond sadness, I'm sure. It just takes time to get there.


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