. . .but I also didn’t see my Muslim neighbors dancing in the streets. They mourned in solidarity with those that lost, those that were in pain. Some knew loved ones themselves that were swallowed whole by the tragedy, gone forever.

Yet here we are, ten years later, and more than half (56%) of the U.K. thinks Islam (specifically referring to the faith and not extremist groups) present at least a not-insignificant threat to Western democracy.

You know, last I checked, it was good Christian folk that killed each other in the streets for decades on end in Northern Ireland. It is good Christian folk now in Germany that are imposing crippling austerity on nations they corralled into their Union for the sake of their own bottom line. And it’s good Christian folk in Parliament that are cutting support to medical services, education, veterans services, public transit, disability services, child protection, this, that, the other, a cut here, a cut there, a cut everywhere, and are you any better off than you were before the promise of a ₤2,500 increase in tax-free allowance, a happy reward for good Christian folk derisively leaving their less fortunate neighbors to rot. But where’s the animosity for that pain and that loss and those gone forever due to the callous calculations of good Christian folk. Oh, but there’s plenty of space for nuance when we’re talking about us.

There’s really no point in this at all, though. The xenophobic tide is an irrational response that will not be turned by an American travelling abroad for a month. Let’s just move it along, though. Why be part of any global community? Shut down the airports, trade lines, all contact with the outside world. Purge those without true Saxon blood from the countryside. Then after, why be part of any sort of Union? Shut down the borders, lock the door, throw away the key; one last call, all ashore that’s going ashore and last one in, turn out the lights. Then, while we’re at it, why have a state? How can you trust the people in London or in Belfast or in Derry or in Edinburgh to reflect your interests and keep their knife out of your back? Best to just cut them off, retreat in tribes to your hamlets, remote cul-de-sacs communes. But soon, when you look across the street, how can you not think that them staring back at you don’t covet what little that’s yours, don’t want to see you brought to a bloody end? Barricade the doors, retreat into the depths of your cave with your family. And then, when you start side-eyeing your own children, your partner, your parents, wary of their intentions and desires, then you can finally curl yourself into a ball and find the deepest, darkest corner of the room to wedge your backside into. Collapse upon yourself to the size of handbag, then an pool ball, then a speck of sand. And then you can ultimately, thankfully, finally be truly alone. Nothing ever to fear.

Alone.