I awoke yesterday, like most any day and prepared myself to help Meta with the grocery shopping. It was in those waking moments that I turned on my radio and it started. The Boston Marathon, exploding bombs and the babble of radio mouth pieces rattling on about numbers of people hurt or killed, legs and arms blown off spectators and atheletes and this and that always changing and thus began the information void. I was happy this day that I did’t get television, don’t have a digital adapter and don’t get cable so I was spared the constant grinding repition or the images of suffering people. They’re people I don’t know but people as much as anybody in my home town. I began to get that unsettled feeling as speculation was substitued for facts and the screams, subtle at first, but they would get louder, for blood. “Send the Drones,”…
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