London blasts

It is funny I sit here to write down this piece. I watch the peaceful reading room of East Asian library and everything is so quiet and smooth as nothing happened today. While on my computer, I refresh my BBC news site every couple of minutes to follow the latest news from the London Blast. What happened? People are attacked and people are died. In the very morning of an ordinary business day, on the second day G8 summit and on the next morning after London just won its bit on Olympic game of 2012. Is it a winner’s curse? I guess not. But too much blood shed on the screen, on the reports, and on the hopeless faces of survived people, and it makes me to think it twice. It is incredible to think about my discussion with Fan about the impossibility to write an art history in a chaotic world like this. We didn’t know, of course, at that moment that the world is thronging itself into a mere mess at an accelerated speed. The bombs on the bus and on the subways make G8 Summit such an irony in that the so-called world leaders have no power what’s so ever to protect their own countryman from terror at home garden! I remember Fan’s comments on Spielberg’s film and especially the recent one, the World of War. And he suggested the director and his film (creation) become so extreme and the middle-class morality becomes so weak that it needs an alien invasion to establish a close tie between a divorced father and his child. In the same logic, you can see how weak the peace of world is. Unfortunately, it seems that we sometimes need 37 blatant deaths to remind us what G.W. said “the war on terror is stilling going on”. M is on his way to Tirana and I am not sure he has left or not due to current situation. I feel he is moving to uncertainty, and by his own choice. In fact, Manhattan is no safer place than London or Tirana or Madrid or Beijing, as long as people still feel hatred for each other. What can I do for him except to pray for his safe? Life is a vulnerable thing, a precious thing, a one-time thing. What can we do about it? We live, we love, and then we leave. There is nothing else we can do about it.