Madness. Our species seems determined to erupt into madness on an all too regular basis. I could be comforted by many things but I'm not.  Do these extreme acts of violence keep coming because there is so much madness at our human made core? I look to the core and see overwhelming greed and the outrageous lust for power  accompanying it we currently call politics. I see so much injustice brought about by the hand of greed that I am not surprised when raging impotence erupts into something other than slow and sickening suicide.  I am saddened by this lack of surprise.

There's plenty of violence in the weathers of the natural world but not so much among the other species.  Seems as though there is a point of satisfaction for the fish, for the birds, for the deer.  But not for us.  Maybe some of us.  Maybe even most of us.  Unfortunately the few for whom there will never be enough also determine who we are politically.  And a bombing?  A bombing is born of politics. It is a political event.  There has never been one  made or used for any other purpose except to express political power.  Of one sort or another.

I look at the picture of a lovely young woman sitting dazed in the street, her legs still attached but damaged.  Damaged. A sacrifice she never meant to make.  I look at her picture and think also of all the other lovely young women sacrificed to the gods of collateral damage sitting damaged in streets other than Boston streets. Streets we have bombed.  Political events.  All to the good of the few who can never have enough.