As I had nothing pressing to do on Monday, I followed quite closely the developments of the Boston Marathon bombings. Not having cable, I opted to follow social media, primarily Twitter, for updates on the bombing. I've curated my feed to only follow bright- and open-minded people and organizations, save for some of the more sensationalist pieces by Salon or Slate, that are mostly link-bait, but do progress the conversation of media responsibility, albeit inadvertently at times.
Two days later, news orgs are still trying to figure out if there is a suspect in custody or not, trying to be the first to "report" the "news," trying to get more hits, more advertising, blah blah blah blah and the only tweet that seems worthy of any attention is one by Modern Seinfeld.
48 hours ago, I didn't even know the Boston Marathon was happening. 48 after that 48 hours ago, the bombing seems like it happened much more than 48 hours ago, the barrage of media displacing my attention in various directions, that I've become entirely disassociated from the event. The 25-year-old me who has family, friends, and acquaintances in Boston, feels no closer or more informed about this situation than the 8-year-old me felt about Atlanta in 1996 and introducing the word "pipebomb" into my vocabulary for the first time.
