We all enjoy seeing people's phone shots of matches, but it must distance them from the excitement. I've seen people film penalties, but I'm sure that trying to hold the phone and keep it in shot must ruin the excitement.
Around 100 injured and 30-50 dead. Driver drove into a large crowd celebrating Basille day with a fire work show. After he had drove into them he got out and shot at police etc. Driver is dead and his passenger is thought to have hostages.
French Ministry saying around 60 dead. MSNBC: French police asking media to avoid broadcasting shocking images. Advising people to avoid downtown area. Chief fear is that this is first of multiple attacks.
Breaking | Police have now neutralised a second individual in the Buffalo Grill restaurant at the Place Massena, according to iTélé. Same. It's just disgusting.
I was at those very celebrations on the promenade last year. My best friend lives there with her family, including my godson. Thankfully they're all okay. Shocked but okay. How do we stop this horror?
That promenade is such a beautiful spot too. I stayed there once with work right on the front. How do we stop this horror? I have no idea. You can't talk to these people. You can't reason with them. Glad your friends are safe.
I posted a link to an article on the politics thread. I won't repost here but I noticed in the article that it shows casualties so just to warn people before they click on any articles at this point that many articles DO have pictures that could upset or distress.
I cannot believe the woman they just interviewed on Sky News "it might sound awful, but it really spoiled our shopping trip". *shakes head*
What ****ing disgusting thing to say, let alone think. PEOPLE HAVE BEEN KILLED. Who gives a **** about your shopping
Several years ago, I was in the Southern France little town of Montagnac, in February. My girlfriend and I decided to go for a walk around the town. It was your typical Mediterranean town. Narrow streets to keep the shade from the sun, and one wide main street with pollarded trees, cut so far back as they only seem to do in France. Just up a lane was the cemetery. You could see it for the tall cypress trees and occasional yew. And just like the town itself, it was just a little unkempt and sun blasted. But the graves were tended in the usual efficient French way. What flowers were there were in perfect bloom. What keepsakes had been put there were untouched. And there were photographs of the dead on almost every stone. It almost made it as if one was walking through a garden of sleeping people rather than bodies. At one end there was a sort of shrine to those who had firmly resisted the German army in WWII. It told a few stories of people being torn from their homes and being brutally questioned before being shot. They would not give in to an evil. The stories were there to remind us not to forget that. As I stood there my eyes filled with tears, not only at the horrors I was reading, but also the still beauty of the place. I'm not spiritual, but that cemetery felt like it had a soul.
