The Boston Marathon bombings? I don’t want to know the names or see the faces of people who cower in violence. Their reasons don’t interest me. Their names don’t interest me. Their organization doesn’t interest me. They want these things to be known, and the wants of petty violent people have no place in my head.
This should be a simple criminal investigation.
We should not care about their reasons or the manifestos of cowards who turn to violence instead of words.
The only names I’m interested in are the names of those who lost loved ones, those who lost their lives, those who were injured, those who helped.
Those are the stories that should be told often and not forgotten. Not the stories of someone hoping to be a martyr with a message needing the strong punch of violence to fill in its empty angry words.
The pain and sadness are deep, but their actions are the insignificant angry tantrum of someone whose conviction cannot carry as words through the quiet of still and peaceful air. Your actions close hearts and minds against your cause where your peaceful words might have otherwise opened them.
And that is sad.