No Joy in Mudville
The wind has been snuffed from my snide sails.
I wanted to come in this morning, and write a bitchy post about the
Bush twins making utter fools of themselves with their ill-suited teen
banter, and how you'd never have seen Chelsea pull such a stunt upon
her graduation from college because she respected herself as an
accomplished young woman.
But frankly, I don't have the heart. Because I pulled up the Post
on-line this morning and was greeted with this:
And right now, there are maybe hundreds of children huddled in a gym
on a long, sleepless night while heavily armed thugs stomp around
them, threatening to kill 50 children for every one of their fighters
who is killed. A mere 20 children will be slaughtered for the wounding
of a fighter. Children have been spotted up against windows -
"apparently being used as human shields."
There's a lot to be said. About the string of attacks, about the
sources and contacts and motivations of these groups. Russian security
services need to have a good hard look at themselves, and there's
foreign policy to consider. All that must be done, but maybe I'm not
cut out for that kind of thing, because I can't stop thinking about
the kids right now.
I keep thinking back to the last time we watched this macabre
production - when Chechen militants stormed Moscow's Dubrovka theater,
taking 700+ hostages. Remember how that ended? Remember how the
security services sent a nerve gas into the theater that was meant to
incapacitate the militants, but killed scores of hostages? I know they
won't make the same mistake again, but the inkling of a chance that we
might have to see photos of dozens of children's bodies piled up
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