AP just reported the following:
Four large bombs exploded in mostly Shiite areas of Baghdad on Wednesday, killing at least 157 people and wounding scores as violence climbed toward levels seen before the U.S.-Iraqi campaign to pacify the capital began two months ago.
In the deadliest of the attacks, a parked car bomb detonated in a crowd of workers at the Sadriyah market in central Baghdad, killing at least 112 people and wounding 115, said Raad Muhsin, an official at Al-Kindi Hospital where the victims were taken.
With my Marine son just back from Iraq two days ago, following my having to endure 203 straight days of reading reports such as above -- during which time another 604 U.S. troops were killed -- I'm finding it difficult to register much more than numbness over 32 people being shot dead in Virginia.
And yes, my "is that all?" reaction bothers me. But is it surprising?
Becoming inured to such violence is a terrible shock. Feeling numb towards the loss of life of innocent students and professors going about their daily lives is not something I ever expected to feel.
This disturbs me to no end.
In fact, I tossed up whether to even write about this, not sure whether it would provoke any response at all. But the beauty that is dKos is being able to toss out a few thoughts and see whether they resonate. Agreement is not always necessary.
What's more, it's difficult not to feel more cynical than ever towards George W. Bush, who on the one hand tells the crowd at the VT memorial service, "It's impossible to make sense of such violence and suffering," and "In times like this, we can find comfort in the grace and guidance of a loving God," while on the other he is single-handedly responsible for the perpetuation of violence and suffering in a four-year-old war of his own making. It is hypocrisy of the highest order.
Certainly there will be much navel-gazing -- mostly redundant -- in the coming weeks about gun control in the U.S., the effect of violent video games, etc., etc., which will go nowhere, as usual.
Most of us, meanwhile, will never have the need or desire to massacre a group of innocents to quell our inner rage.
But numbness towards such acts? If it can happen to me -- an otherwise loving mother who has fought off panic attacks nearly every day for the past seven months -- it can happen to anyone. And I can only blame it on war, this war in Iraq -- its images, its pointlessness, its unending four-year-old cycle of tragic death, in the tens of thousands, on all sides.
I don't want to feel indifferent about "only" 32 innocent lives ended by a madman. But while this war rages on, I do. And that is tragic in itself.