On the 22nd of May we witnessed another terrorist attack. This time it was in Manchester. 22 people were killed by Salman Abedi. Suicide bombing. I read the article late in the evening and just went "meh".

The usual routine followed. Condolences. Declarations of support. Other countries lining up to state that "they stand with the UK". Hmm! Perhaps they had been sitting since the previous declaration - you know, the one released on the 22nd of March, after the Westminster attack - and just wanted to let us know that they're once again standing? You can't expect people to stand with you - whatever that might mean - for months. One does get tired every now and then.

The local politicians repeated their carefully constructed lines - you know, the ones that sound like they might mean something, but don't actually mean anything and are safe enough to use. You know, the pre-approved set that shouldn't offend anyone - at least 5 unpaid interns worked on them. It's important to use safe lines. After all, you wouldn't want to lose votes over a few corpses you don't really care about.

"Terrorists are not going to win, they're not going to divide us"

"We are not going to be defeated by terrorists"

"Muslims, Christians and followers of the Flying Spaghetti Monster stand united and condemn this barbaric act"

One thing I can't understand is this "we are not going to be defeated" thing. Who exactly does this "we" refer to?

Are they talking about that father who had been saving for months to buy his precious princess a ticket, so she could finally see her favourite artist? Because, well, I don't know whether he feels defeated, but I'm fairly sure he can't possibly feel victorious either.

Are they talking about the mother who was frantically updating her daughter's facebook and twitter begging her friends and anyone else to call her if they know anything about her missing daughter? (she was found dead later on). Could she be feeling defeated? Unlikely - politicians everywhere agreed: we're not going to be defeated.

Are they talking about the guy who lost the love of his life? I get it: we're not going to be divided. Is that unity he's feeling right now?

The threat level was then elevated to Critical - indicating another attack might soon follow. Soldiers were deployed on the streets. People looked both ways - twice - before crossing the street, on their way to the pub.

Two days later, the press mentioned the #BritishThreatLevels hashtag. Apparently, some twitter users decided to post supposedly funny stuff and they used that hashtag. To quote a few:

"We're British. You can't scare us until you raise the threat level to "I'm sorry, but there's only continental breakfast left"".

Indeed. Of course, being told that your 8 year old daughter is now dead and blaming yourself for buying her that ticket might be bad, but not as bad as not getting proper hash browns. I know EXACTLY what you mean.

"A rail replacement bus service can be found outside of the station concourse".

Naturally, finding out that your only son has been killed by an explosion might not be the best thing ever. But that's nothing compared to finding out your train has been canceled. I mean, never mind the son, you're going to be LATE!

"Unexpected item in the bagging area".

Sure, staring at your wife's lifeless body could be considered an unpleasant experience under a particular set of circumstances. But nowhere near as unpleasant as the Tesco self-checkout machine being unable to read the barcode off your precious chocolate bar.

The press proudly mentioned these - they've even included screenshots. Apparently this is stoical humour, proving once again that "we're not going to be defeated". Look at us - we're laughing in the face of danger. Of course, we're not the victims. We don't even know the victims. Which is why it's so easy to compare their deaths to a self-checkout error in the local supermarket. The press apparently believed that this is British resilience, something to be proud of. I wish I could believe that too. Unfortunately, this isn't exactly what I believe.

I should've been terrified. After all, this could happen to me one day. This could've happened to me quite a few times so far. What if it did? Well, once they managed to move my dead body somewhere else, politicians in a safe area would tell my wife and son that they're not going to be defeated. Or divided. They should just go about their business and move on with their lives. After all, it's just a husband. Or a dad. It's not like you can't find another you big crybaby. (Ignore the 20 bodyguards around those politicians - they were probably just in the neighbourhood and stopped for a coffee. Never mind the armored car, that's not what we're talking about. Strong, stable, undefeated and totally united)

We're not terrified because this happens far too often to still be terrifying.

Just two months earlier, on the 22nd of March, another terrorist attack had taken place close to the Palace of Westminster. That time, another guy - Khalid Masood (also born in the UK) killed 4 people and injured 50 others. This could've happened to me in Paris - I recently went there for an interview. Some people say "France" and they picture the Eiffel Tower. Or good wine. Perhaps a croissant or perhaps a French lover. Me? I picture some idiot somehow getting a couple of AK-47s across a few borders - and perhaps some grenades as well, just for fun. Or perhaps another idiot in a stolen truck, running people over while they're celebrating...something. I can't even remember what that was.

I'm not terrified, though. Neither are Britons. Or French people. Or Germans. We're not terrified because this happens far too often to still be a shock. If your local tabloid can't come up with a pixelated picture of something compromising involving a short-bus has-been "star", they can always count on a deranged individual to kill some people to please his imaginary friends. It gives us something to discuss over coffee in the privacy of our homes. It has to be done at home. You see, it's too risky to say anything at work, for example. You might use the wrong word and offend someone - since we're not - you know - divided. Or defeated.

If we end up with sufficient bodies on the pavement, we might even come up with a hashtag and possibly joke about it. Nothing hysterical, just a smirk. After all, this is Britain. One does not laugh out loud - not unless one is a pleb.

So, dear bereaved parents, Britain thanks you for your contribution. All that time, love, effort, sleepless nights (and money?) spent raising your child were not completely wasted - and neither is your life. It wasn't all for nothing. Of course, we'll still act as if nothing happened. Your children are still going to be faceless numbers and forgotten names. Nothing personal, but with all these attacks, who could possibly remember everyone?

It was a slow day for the press. But then a madman slaughtered some teenagers and finally the clicks and pageviews started kicking in, shortly followed by the hashtags, resulting in even more clicks and ad revenue.

Yes, yes, we get it, your bloodline might now be extinct - along with your dreams and hopes. But seriously, stop being such a drama queen. You can at least take comfort in knowing that your child's death was mildly entertaining on twitter and somewhat profitable for a newspaper.

Don't worry, though, we're not divided. Hold that thought though - unlike you, I need to take my son to school. Haven't you heard? We're not going to be defeated. Of course, terrorists might carry automatics and they might wrap themselves in IEDs, but we're not terrified. Their killings can't possibly match the power of our soundbites.