Madness begets madness.
Since writing my previous post, Donald Trump has decided to have a go at launching World War Three by lobbing some 59 Cruise missiles at Syria; not targeting ISIS, but now aimed squarely at a Syrian government airfield.
I'm not entirely certain what to expect from this point on, but the act has shaken me to my core in a way I've only rarely experienced before: the outbreak of Gulf War I (by George Bush Sr.) and the World Trade Centre attacks being two notable other occasions. I was at work when Bush Sr's first Gulf War was announced ... the email came through from our management that the U.S. had begun its offensive, and my colleague and I stared at the email in disbelief, before frantically disassembling our entire work schedule and re-arranging it to accommodate the new chaos of being once more at war.
Thanks to advances in global television news coverage, the World Trade Centre attacks are even more ingrained into my memory. This time I was at home, and sat on my couch glued to the television in utter astonishment and disbelief.
Like in those two circumstances, I'm left only with the feeling of cold dread and a certainty that the world will once more change drastically and murderously from this point forth. For this savagery I was again at work, but this time after the initial half hour of panic and chaos as everyone came to grips with the reality of the U.S. jumping on the landmine of potential global and quite possibly nuclear warfare, an uneasy quiet fell on everyone as we waited for the initial responses from Syria, Russia et al. The dread intensified, and my only solace is the hope that I'm grossly overstating the drama of the event, but I fear probably not.
A very nervous few days, weeks and maybe months lay ahead, I fear.
April May be alright.
