The Boston Marathon bombing.

  • Seattle, Washington

The closer things come into view, the sharper the focus.
Knowing he is to die from the bomb, we are haunted by the photo of the sweet-faced, eight year old boy looking at us while holding a sign that says to not hurt one another.
The image stays with us.

We experience moments of horror contemplating daily incidents of Boston-marathon proportions in far-off, other-cultured places in Africa, Asia, and the Mid-East.                     We put those thoughts out of our minds.

We fleetingly, in an unexpected shudder, realize that we, the United States of America, carry out and perpetuate far greater atrocities on innocent people in the name of our War on Terrorism.                                                                                                                                            We move on in denial and forgetfulness.

The price we pay is living in fear of the Other while knowing, deep-down, that the Other is us.

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