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London Bombed Again, Sort of
A fortnight after the horrors of July 7, four men tried to terrify Londoners again as suicide bombers. When the initial news hit the wires, veterans of the IRA bombing campaigns of the 70s, 80s and 90s (which is anybody who lived in London more than a month) felt that sickening “not again” lump of ice in the bowels. Then, the facts began to trickle out, and the mood switched from grim determination to mockery. Al Qaeda has sent in the clowns.
The 21 July “attacks” resulted in a tough Thursday commute and nothing more. No one died (although this morning, it appears that London police in a special armed unit in the Stockwell station did kill a man who reportedly had a bomb belt on), and the worst physical damage was some broken windows on the Number 26 bus in Shoreditch. London Transport’s deductible is probably high enough that an insurance claim won’t be worthwhile, and Stan or Reg in the repair shop will get it fixed by tea-time.
According to a Daily Mail report, Abisha Moyo, a 28-year-old business analyst, was on the Hammersmith and City Thursday when he heard a loud bang
which sounded like a pistol. I turned round and thought someone had been shot because there was a man lying on the ground with his arms outstretched in a Jesus Christ position lying on top of a rucksack face up. I stayed where I was because I wasn't sure what had happened to him and thought he might have been shot. I went up to him and said: 'Are you alright mate?' But he just ignored me and kept his eyes shut . . . The rucksack was ripped at the bottom with some kind of muslin showing and some gooey lard coming out of it. I could see what looked like a pressurised cannister [sic] or tube and there was a strong smell of vinegar . . . [Sometime later] I looked back and saw him stand up looking disorientated and confused. He then walked to the back of the carriage leaving the bag and his cap on the floor and I could see some copper wire showing out of the back of his T-shirt. It was then I clicked he was an attempted suicide bomber.
Imagine, a suicide bomber so inept that he only manages to ruin his backpack, and maybe burn himself a little. And his would-be victim asking “Are you alright, mate?” unaware that the attack had come and gone. If this is what’s left of the terrorist cell in the UK, they would better serve their warped cause by switching sides. Maybe if their bungling and stupidity were in the ranks of the police, the terror campaign would have a chance. Acetone peroxide appears to be the unstable stuff used, but according to Kevin Toolis, who’s working on a documentary about suicide bombers, it has a shelf life of about a week, after which it’s garbage. Of course, when four out of four bombs fail, it isn’t defective material as much as ineffective attackers.
Meanwhile, New Yorkers awoke to the news that this morning the police would be searching packages of those entering the subway on a random basis. A little more freedom went out the door, as anyone refusing a warrant-less search would be denied the right to go through the turnstile. And like the sheep they are becoming, few New Yorkers complained. Of course, this doesn’t improve security at all -- anyone with a bomb who was stopped would only set the device off before paying his $2 fare, killing people in the ticket area rather than on the platform or train. Unless that is, the would-be bomber is as inept and as stupid as the bozos who pretended to be terrorists yesterday. London remains unimpressed.
© Copyright 2005 by The Kensington Review, J. Myhre, Editor. No part of this publication may be reproduced without written consent.
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