Hardly a day for blogging about how great the marathon went. I obviously have no inside knowledge -- the bombs literally exploded while I was getting a post-race massage 1/2 mile away, and I knew nothing until returning to Boyleston Street -- but I do feel more impacted than I did after, say, Aurora Colorado or Newtown Connecticut, if only because that's about where P__ might have been standing had she come to cheer.
The ticker on CNN reports more on the 8-year-old boy killed. His name was Martin Richard. His mother and sister were also greviously injured. A family came to watch Dad run a marathon and that family is now destroyed. And that's a small part of the losses suffered yesterday.
I wonder why this is worse (to me) than when a disgruntled ex-employee shoots up an office or the like. Even religious sectarianism does not offend me this much. I get that "your people have oppressed my people for millennia and now we're getting you back." (Millennia of being the oppressors is one reason I distance myself from the religion into which I was raised.) I don't get attacking people who are doing nothing more than celebrating being healthy.
Maybe it's like an Olympic bombing, but even that at least can be explained as a political attack; the Olympics definitely are not above politics. Athletes go to win gold for America and newspapers tally national medal counts. Can yesterday's bombing be explained as political? "Die, America"? There is no more international event than the Boston Marathon, where the most recent U.S.-based (male) winner was 30 years ago. That's why I have gone for three years -- it's a massive weekend party made up of we runners' compatriots from around the globe. Every third person I greet while running Highway 135 to Highway 16 to Highway 30 to Beacon, Commonwealth, Hereford and Boyleston responds with a thick accent or merely a nod and a smile, not understanding what I said. Running in Boston is like traveling -- everybody speaks my language a little, everybody is gracious, and everybody is different from me.
No good religious justification. No good political justification. So unless you spent your life being trod up on by skinny people, their families, and others who go to revel in their health, this is just hate.
I'm mad, with that kind of impotent rage that I feel every time bad people hurt good people.