I've been reading all the newspaper articles about the bombing on Dalby Moor and they seem to have certain things in common. They talk about the loss of life with statistics, and they blame the DMLE. Now, normally people tell me to stick with numbers, but one of the reasons I like numbers is because they're not people. They're a lot less complicated than people, there's no emotional mess with numbers, people aren't attached to numbers.
I went to Dalby Moor to look at the aftermath and lay some flowers down. Quite a few other people were doing the same thing. I talked to some of them about the people they'd lost, people who always read the last page of a book first to see how it would end, people who never used the right colours when colouring in, people who loved to eat raw cookie dough, and that has nothing to do with the number 327.
I tried to get a list of the dead, but couldn't. So I'm going to make up names. It's not quite perfect, but at least this way we see them as people. So I'd like to take a moment of silence for those killed on Dalby Moor.
Michael, Jennifer, Christopher, Amy, Jason, Melissa, David, Michelle, James, Kimberly, John, Lisa, Robert, Angela, Brian, Heather, William, Stephanie, Matthew, Nicole, Joseph, Jessica, Daniel, Elizabeth, Kevin, Rebecca, Eric, Kelly, Richard, Mary, Jeffrey, Christina, Scott, Amanda, Mark, Julie, Steven, Sarah, Thomas, Laura, Timothy, Shannon, Anthony, Christine, Charlie, Tammy, Joshua, Tracy, Ryan, Karen, Jeremy, Dawn, Paul, Susan, Andrew, Andrea, Gregory, Tina, Chad, Patricia, Kenneth, Cynthia, Jonathan, Lori, Stephen, Rachel, Shawn, April, Aaron, Maria, Adam, Wendy, Patrick, Crystal, Justin, Stacy, Sean, Erin, Edward, Jamie, Todd, Carrie, Donald, Tiffany, Ronald, Tara, Benjamin, Sandra, Keith, Monica, Bryan, Danielle, Gary, Stacey, Jose, Pamela, Nathan, Tonya, Douglas, Sara, Brandon, Michele, Nicholas, Teresa, George, Denise, Travis, Jill, Peter, Katherine, Craig, Melanie, Bradley, Dana, Larry, Holly, Dennis, Erica, Shane, Brenda, Raymond, Deborah, Troy, Tanya, Jerry, Sharon, Samuel, Donna, Frank, Amber, Jesse, Emily, Jeffery, Linda, Juan, Robin, Terry, Kathleen, Corey, Leslie, Phillip, Christy, Marcus, Kristen, Derek, Catherine, Rodney, Kristin, Joel, Misty, Carlos, Barbara, Randy, Heidi, Jamie, Nancy, Jacob, Cheryl, Tony, Theresa, Russell, Brandy, Brent, Alicia, Billy, Veronica, Antonio, Gina, Derrick, Jacquiline, Kyle, Rhonda, Erik, Anna, Johnny, Renee, Marc, Megan, Carl, Tamara, Philip, Kathryn, Roger, Melinda, Bobby, Debra, Brett, Sherry, Danny, Allison, Curtis, Valerie, Jon, Diana, Vincent, Paula, Cory, Kristina, Jimmy, Ann, Lawrence, Margaret, Victor, Cindy, Dustin, Victoria, Gerald, Jodi, Walter, Natalie, Joe, Brandi, Alexander, Kristi, Christian, Suzanne, Chris, Beth, Alan, Samantha, Shannon, Tracey, Wayne, Regina, Jared, Vanessa, Gabriel, Kristy, Martin, Carolyn, Willie, Yolanda, Jay, Deanna, Luis, Carla, Michael, Sheila, Henry, Laurie, Wesley, Anne, Randall, Shelly, Brad, Diane, Darren, Janet, Roy, Sabrina, Arthur, Katrina, Albert, Erika, Ricky, Courtney, Lance, Colleen, Allen, Carol, Lee, Julia, Andre, Jenny, Bruce, Jaime, Mario, Kathy, Frederick, Felicia, Louis, Alison, Darrell, Lauren, Damon, Kelli, Shaun, Leah, Nathaniel, Ashley, Zachary, Kim, Casey, Traci, Adrian, Kristine, Jeremiah, Tricia, Jesus, Joy, Jack, Krista, Ronnie, Kara, Dale, Terri, Tyrone, Sonya, Manuel, Aimee, Ricardo, Natasha, Harold, Cassandra, Kelly, Bridget, Barry, Anita, Reginald, Kari, Ian, Nichole, Glenn, Christie, Ernest, Marie, Steve, Viginia, Seth, Connie, Eugene, Martha, Clinton, Carmen, Miguel, Stacie, Tommy.
To all of you, I hope you rest in peace. You may have been the lucky ones.
To those of us who are still alive: It isn't the DMLE we should be angry with. They are not infallible, they are human, just like us. We should be angry at the people who Apparated to Dalby Moor sometime last week, affixed explosives to the undersides of the public stands, used magic to hide them and then detonated them in the middle of one of this country's most popular sporting events. We should be angry at the people who've tried to destroy our most famous commercial district not once, but twice. We should be angry at the people who break into our homes and kill us and our children while we sleep. We should be angry at the people who are so aware that what they're doing is wrong that they hide behind robes and masks because they are too ashamed, too cowardly to use a public arena to try and change the society into what they want. Why? Because they know it would fail. They know they're a minority. And they're trying to make us forget.
They are outnumbered, they are flesh and blood and they are beatable.