The killing floor.
I'm sitting in Max, a fast food restaurant in town. In seems a good idea, there's a bomb threat hovering over central Göteborg, it's nice and central, and they have broadband. Bonus! I think that South Africa has given me a taste for adventure. To cement my chances of eternal rest, I'm going to the cinema later; this is better than the lotto.
There were a bunch of people arrested here yesterday, apparently just as they were about to bomb Göteborg; but they were not the bomb threat that the police are aware of. So we have more bombers afoot, and their plot thickens imminently.
I don't want to get blown up, and I'm very happy that the first bunch are incarcerated, but I understand it. The Wikileaks documents understruck what we all should know, namely that war is brutal and claims men, women and children, innocent or not. People get angry. Attitudes harden, the unthinkable is thought, the extremes gain converts. I saw it in Ireland while the slow war was being waged. War provides fertile soil for funny ideas.
War should be an absolute last resort. It should, any case other than provable self defence, or to stop an atrocity in progress, be punishable. Whether you are America, Russia, China, or, heck, Ireland.
Yup. Anything to get out of the manuscript that I'm supposed to be tweeking for a friend. Hey. I'm tired.
Soon; Scott Pilgrim! It may well suck. I may well fall asleep. Hence I might possible combine a violent death with dying in my sleep!
Have a safely scary Hallowe'en!