Apr. 15th, 2013

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Funny how our instant media breaks down when we need it most. I heard about it from a client, moments after it happened.  Three hours and two long meetings later, I finally began hearing more. This late, past 8, I still haven't seen a single image beyond some fleeting Facebook icons.  Don't especially want to, either.

My niece's husband was there. He crossed the finish line at 1:17 p.m., long before the carnage. (Mark is a Connecticut trooper and was one of the first responders to Sandy Hook.  Shit shit shit shit shit.) Instead, the victims were the runners and their cheerers-on in the final wave of participants. The "stragglers," as one report called them. Runners like me. (More more more more more shit.)

Little by little, word came- hindered, no doubt, by the total shutdown of cellular service there to prevent further remote detonations. First from my niece that they were all fine, and eventually from all of our other Hub friends who were, or coulda mighta maybe been close by; they're all accounted for, too.

As the perp(s) will inevitably be, in this age of surveillance video and mobile phone records. 

Alex Jones has already tweeted that it's a false flag incident, so at least some of the country's getting back to normal.

I need rest after a near-sleepless night and a day that was personally rotten long before it became globally and tragically so.

Love to each and every one of you.

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