Thursday, July 07, 2005

The Day They Bombed Bloomsbury

Between 9 and 10 o'clock this morning, there was a series of terrorist explosions in my hometown, London. Not only were these bombs in my hometown, they were in my borough, my hood, my manor, practically my street. When I came out of the shower this morning, my flatmate said: 'I think I just heard a bomb'. I turned on the TV and she was correct.

As of this moment, the police say four or five bombs have been detonated across town. Two have gone off about a couple of hundred yards from where I live. A bomb on the Tube at Russell Square, and a bomb on the top deck of a bus in Tavistock Square. I can walk to these places in thirty seconds. As I write, the silence here is overwhelming - apart, that is, from the endless blaring sirens, and the police and hospital helicopters.

They say dozens are dead. The bus was apparently ripped open like a tin can, I imagine everyone on the topdeck was terribly maimed or killed. The local hospitals are coping, but they're only taking serious injuries.

You know, I love my city, the greatest city in the world, I hate the bastards that did this. But London Can Take It. We saw off Hitler, we can see off a bunch of sexually insecure weirdo peasants. Anyway... to take my mind off the unsettling scenes here, I thought I'd go out and try and record these scenes, as best I could. i don't know what else to do. Displacement activity, maybe.

So, here is a picture of Gower Street, on the corner of my street, a minute from the bus bomb and the Russell Square Tube Bomb (where they say a train is still trapped, and hundreds are being rescued). Notice the total eerie silence. No cars. This is eleven a.m. In the centre of the busiest city in Europe.

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