it’s The Morning After, and we all seem to be feeling, predictably, a lot better. yesterday pretty much hit me like a truck – i felt like i was walking around in sort of a venn-diagram-style intersection of the present and 4 years back, and was accordingly all confused and emotional and generally glad to not be in the office where i would have had to at least pretend to cope.

but i seem to have slept that off, and am fully back to the present (my fingers started typing ‘back to the future’ there all on their own – do you think that’s cause for concern?), and have decided to leave the tv off and the tunes on this morning as i work from home. those who are watching tell me the news keeps talking about the resilience of the london people. about which another friend of mine said, yesterday:

“who would you *not* say that about?

“the icelanders are a rigid, not very resilient people. this terror attack will destroy their society. put a fork in them.

“there’s much talk in the news today about what will happen to all the icelanders, now that their society has been destroyed. many plan to join a more resilient nation, like the british. or, really, anyone but iceland.”

[it should be noted that neither of us have anything against iceland or the icelandic people, and that both of us are really rather fond of reykjavik and think icelandic is a lovely, if fiendishly difficult, language.]

this morning, though, the resilience of the british people was once again brought home to me, through the following IM conversation:

me: mmmmm……caffelicious.

si: it may have a bomb in it. be caffareful

me: don’t worry, i’m following the instructions of my friend phin in chicago who says that no amount of me being blown up will be tolerated.

si: not even a limb or two?

me: he says no. demanding.

si: goodness

me: i know.

si: what about if your reflection got blown up?

me: he still might be pissed. pissed off as in angry

si: I know. am able to translate your quaint colonial tongue

me: see, i’m such a walkover i just do whatever they say.

can’t even get blown up if i want to

si: I think we should organise a pan BBC ‘no blowing up’ day
‘No blowing up at the BBC’
and picket the tube

me: lol

si: “hell no, we won’t blow’
I refuse to be blown up.

me: a good attitude.

si: let them just try and make me blown up
I’ll sit down on the street and refuse to be blown up.

me: oh yeah? i’ll LIE DOWN in the street and refuse to be blown up.
i was saying to a friend yesterday that you know, i go through liverpool street every morning, and sometimes i take the hammersmith + city line, and the bus that was blown up was a #30 from hackney

si: I’m going to start a leaflet campaign

me: i was thinking it could just as easily have been one of my more psychotic exes.

si: hmm Where was [name of most recent insane ex] yesterday morning?
Was he blowing anyone up?
I refuse to blown up by [name] also.


si: I refuse to [be] blown up.
blown out – can’t really do much about. blown down – well that’s just bad weather. Blown around – I should be decisive.
This is all ok. Blown up – no.

me: i see your point
very solid.

si: well you’ve gotta stand up for what you stand for I think.

me: or lie down for it, whichever.

si: you can’t take it sitting down when it comes to what you stand for.

me: i have a perverse desire to post large portions of this conversation on my blog

si: I think you should. It’s an important message for the world.

so there you have it. hell no, we won’t blow. up.