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I can’t stop thinking of the families whose lives have been devastated by the Paris attacks on Friday: parents who have lost children, and children deprived of parents; siblings, spouses and lovers who will never come home.

When last I heard a news bulletin, twenty victims remained unidentified, their families presumably still trying to hold to a shred of hope that somehow, somewhere their lost one might turn up, while knowing by this stage that when the news comes it can really only be bad.

And the politics behind it all: so labyrinthine in its complexity that I can’t see how the conflicts can ever be resolved. Every time a politician appears and makes some pointless, simplistic declaration such as “We will win,” I resist the urge to throw a brick at the television, and just snort derisively, remembering the H.L. Mencken quote of which R reminded me yesterday: “For every complex problem there is an answer that is clear, simple, and wrong.”

I fear for the future, not least because I have alarmingly little faith in those in power. But there’s nothing I can do to change whatever will happen, so all I can do is try to remember that this too shall pass.

And right now, add my thoughts to the groundswell of sympathy and love being sent out towards the City of Light.