I'm desensitised to things I see on the internet...oh, wait, no I'm not.

First of all, record reviews, updates on my new retro finds and other malarkey have been on hold for a while. I'll be back to those sometime soon.

A strange thing happened to me this week. The Boston bombings happened shortly before I left for work, and so I couldn't really keep up with the news much, other than I knew it was bad. As best as I could, by listening to the radio in the car radio and it's vague reporting on the way to work, or checking my phone at opportune moments. 

News was streaming in at an astonishing rate, and sometimes with astonishing inaccuracies - but obviously you don't know this at the time - and was flooding my social media streams. Shortly after arriving at work, and just before phoning home as I always do to check in as safe (!), I flicked through my Facebook timeline to see if there was any more news. 

In some ways, I wish I hadn't. A couple of friends had posted nothing else but graphic photos of injured, maimed people - posted possibly before these people even made it to hospital. I was actually angry. Was this to shock? Was it necessary? If I'd have come across these pictures, would my first instinct be to share them on Facebook, on Twitter? Not at all. I was shocked. Even a little upset if I'm honest. I was upset that people were clearly in a bad way, yet someone was poking a camera at them. I was upset that they could have been helping rather than snapping, filming. One or two pictures really bothered me. I had a troubled shift at work all night thinking about the photos and the people in them.

When I got home in the morning, I spoke to my wife about what I'd seen and how I felt. And she made me think, as she said that the photos are a necessary evil to an extent, no matter how bad something is, it still needs to be shown so that we all know how atrocious something may be. I could see her reasoning. I went to bed, still troubled, still thinking about the pictures I'd looked at that night.

Which begs the next question. Why did I look? Ok, when scrolling down your Facebook there's no warning about what will appear further down the page. Twitter hashtags for any news make photos a little easier to avoid, but not always. But it's a human trait isn't it? If we see a car accident on the motorway, we rubberneck and try to see a glimpse. You know you shouldn't look, but you can't help it. 'Grisly photo of bomb victim - WARNING' - yet your mouse hover over the link. Your finger ready to tap that address on the touchscreen. Your curiosity takes over - you know that you're more than likely going to reel back with a wince once you see it. 

But you still click.

I did, and have suffered for it. I'm not particularly squeamish of photographs (real life may be different), but what I saw really did bother me. Because it was real. It was visceral, full on and utterly shocking. I even felt a little queasy. But I kept looking, taking in the photograph, trying to desensitise myself to the horror on my screen.

I'm not going to show the photos of course, and I'm sure you've seen them, most certainly one. I'm not going to describe them either. I saw a lot of pictures that Tuesday. I didn't want to, but my ridiculously disobedient curiosity took me further, link to link. But aside from the shock, I also realised I was genuinely upset. And that is why I think I was bothered for the days that followed.

The main photo of course, was that of the man in the wheelchair who's legs had been destroyed. It was the first picture I saw, and the one I kept looking at. Once I'd got over the shocking graphic of the injuries, I looked further. Reasoned with the picture. It was almost iconic of the terrible thing that had happened. I felt bad for the man. Terribly sad. Straight away, I wanted to see if the man was ok, as far as he could be. I couldn't find much mention, just people posting the picture all over the place. I could accept this by now, but for some reason I needed to know if he was ok. Eventually, I found an article written just a few hours before I started looking, with a report that the man was obviously very poorly, but actually in a stable condition. I dug further, scanning the news reports and tweets. This led to me a page on Reddit, apparently posted from one of the man's friends, updating on his status also. Reading through the thread, there were some links to other photographs from the moments immediately after the bomb blast, and, maybe foolishly, my curiosity once again got the better of me and I opened a couple of the links. The photos were brutal, more shocking than the news photographer's picture. These were raw pictures of death and suffering, as it happened and because of their snapshot style, hit perhaps harder than any Canon EOS wielding pro could ever achieve. I'm not going to describe these pictures, other than to say that again, I was disturbed for a while, then shocked, then sad. I viewed them with a morbid, disgusted curiosity, and I was angry at myself for it. I wished there was something I could do, but then, I guessed did thousands of others.

The next day or two was kind of strange. I woke up thinking about not only the horrible images, but also of the man in them. My conscience was in turmoil about the ethics of photos like this being released. I spoke to my wife about my concerns, and she again convinced me of their relevance. She's good at that, and it's one of the things I love about her.

But I still was thinking constantly about Jeff Bauman Jr. The man who had had his photo splashed all over the world because he had been so badly injured, and had been captured in such a graphic way. 

Here is a story on Mr. Bauman Jr. that appeared the day after. (No graphic images on the page)
http://www.ibtimes.com/meet-jeff-bauman-boston-bombing-victim-graphic-wheelchair-photo-now-stable-condition-1196493#

Around the same time, a fund was set up to raise money for the horrendous medical bills that come with a stay in hospital in America. At the time, just a few hours in, almost $20,000 had already been raised. At the time of writing, the fund is at $220,000. 
And yes, I donated. I didn't think about it, just a small amount because I felt moved to. Again, it's hard to explain. But I wanted to, even by putting a few dollars into that fund, know that maybe I might have helped buy some medicine, or a bandage. Anything. And I felt so much better, better with myself because I had been annoyed at myself for looking at the pictures in the first place, and better because I might just have helped this young man, even in the smallest way. That's not self righteous, or indulgent, I genuinely felt good.

Which once more bought me back to the ethics of being able to see photos like the ones I saw. Had I not seen any of this, kept away from it and blocked the horror from my phone, computer or whatever...I may not have ever made that donation. So, in some uneasy way, I'm glad I saw the pictures. They moved me to do something. 
On the other hand, it's very difficult to imagine the effect the photos might have on the family and friends of Jeff Bauman Jr. They are never going to want to see them. Yet, the internet will forever show pictures of Jeff in that wheelchair, because it's almost been adopted as the iconic image of the atrocity. I just hope that they have the decency to censor them appropriately in the future.

Edit

Since I wrote much of this, I'm glad to say that Jeff's condition has continued to improve, and further articles written are giving more of his story. The fund has reached over $300,000 and is still going strong. And I have been in contact with his official support page, who said he'd 'absolutely love' a drawing of a Boston sports team.
I'm pretty sure I can manage that...
and, I wish Jeff all the best in his recuperation.




Here's some links which (should) be free of graphic images, but help tell the story better than I possibly could - if you haven't read them already.
http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/bomb-victim-helped-id-suspects-hospital-bed-article-1.1321582 - how Jeff Bauman helped identify the Boston bombers.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2013/apr/16/carlos-arredondo-hero-boston-marathon - The story about the man that saved Jeff Bauman's life, Carlos Arredondo.

http://www.gofundme.com/BucksforBauman - Fundraising page.

https://www.facebook.com/supportjeffandfamily - Facebook support page.


My very last word.
For the conspiracy theorists, the people that have said that this is all fake, including Jeff's injuries - ask yourself, would you tell him or his family, to their faces that it was fake? I very much doubt it. And how anyone could think like this, try and profit from things like this and exploit things like this - well, I've found out in the last few days that it angers me a lot - and I am far from an angry person. 
Hopefully, I'll have something nicer to report next time.