The Tragic Marathon's Sprinting Heroes

Appropriating the only cowboy not its own, the United States shoots faster than its own shadow — just like Lucky Luke. When said shadow is made of explosions, it shoots heroes before the dust cloud even settles. It’s disturbing to see good American newspapers on a constant lookout for the instant heroes to feed the next Hollywood hit. After the saga of the New York firemen, we’ll have the Boston marathoners, or the marathon responders — the tourniquet-making man in the cowboy hat who was in much demand for interviews alongside the bloodied American flag — to give the media an endless stream where they can sate their unquenchable thirst. One of the man’s sons was killed in Iraq, the other committed suicide and the man himself tried to self-immolate; it’s the former American football player who was immortalized in a picture where he is shown carrying a woman to an ambulance; it’s the “icon” — that’s what they’re already calling him — the 78-year-old marathon runner that tripped with the blast of the first bomb …

These people should be thought of as what they are: first-hand witnesses of a tragedy. To dramatize a tragedy with heroes is not to understand the dimensions of the event. And the larger issue is how simple it is to terrorize: two pressure cookers, nails, gunpowder and a fuse in the right spot, and it makes the news all over the world. This being the case, it would be prudent not to go rushing in search for heroes. It just might put ideas into the heads of lunatics.