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I get it. I do. I was in Manhattan on Sept. 11, 2001. I remember the panicked stampede at Grand Central when some idiot yelled something about a bomb.
I remember walking down Third towards Chinatown and seeing the ghostly figures trudging north in shock, covered in gray dust.
I remember walking down Third towards Chinatown and seeing the ghostly figures trudging north in shock, covered in gray dust.
I remember diving across the 59th St. bridge on Sept. 12, when they reopened the arteries across the rivers.
On my way there, the silence was eerie. 2nd Ave. was deserted. There was a solitary lady walking her dog at 7:30 AM. It was like I was in a post-apocalyptic horror film.
On my way there, the silence was eerie. 2nd Ave. was deserted. There was a solitary lady walking her dog at 7:30 AM. It was like I was in a post-apocalyptic horror film.
Those images and those feelings will be with me forever.
But this national, public indulgence is ... not productive.
It's been 18 years. This public orgy of remembrance feeds the desire for, or at least the indifference to, continuing the Forever War.
And the press feeds it.
But this national, public indulgence is ... not productive.
It's been 18 years. This public orgy of remembrance feeds the desire for, or at least the indifference to, continuing the Forever War.
And the press feeds it.
Cui Bono?
18 years.
Except for Ground Zero and the Pentagon, our mourning should be in private, now.
I dread the orchestrated orgies that will come in two years, when we hit that psychologically significant round number.
Remember?
Yes.
Privately.
18 years.
Except for Ground Zero and the Pentagon, our mourning should be in private, now.
I dread the orchestrated orgies that will come in two years, when we hit that psychologically significant round number.
Remember?
Yes.
Privately.
I don't need to see pics or video of that day. I was there. The images are etched indelibly into my neurons.
Mourn.
But privately. Without the kerosene of the press being poured on the smoldering embers of hate for those who perpetrated the crime.
Mourn.
But privately. Without the kerosene of the press being poured on the smoldering embers of hate for those who perpetrated the crime.
But publicly?
Resolve to bring this chapter of our history to a close and end the Forever War.
And when the press starts their patriotic schmaltz-fest, ask yourself - is this what they would have wanted, 18 years on?
Resolve to bring this chapter of our history to a close and end the Forever War.
And when the press starts their patriotic schmaltz-fest, ask yourself - is this what they would have wanted, 18 years on?
Would those who died want THIS?
That kids who were barely born yet, would still be fighting in their name on some godforsaken hillside in Central Asia?
We we still beating the drum of Pearl Harbor this loudly in 1963? I don't think so.
That kids who were barely born yet, would still be fighting in their name on some godforsaken hillside in Central Asia?
We we still beating the drum of Pearl Harbor this loudly in 1963? I don't think so.
When the video montages start, ask yourself:
Cui bono?
The defense contractors and the 1% are doing really well.
The rest of us?
Let's reclaim our nation and our purpose and fix what needs fixing, instead of appeasing the ghosts of the past.
Cui bono?
The defense contractors and the 1% are doing really well.
The rest of us?
Let's reclaim our nation and our purpose and fix what needs fixing, instead of appeasing the ghosts of the past.
Chances are, where ever they are, they're not appeased.
Just appalled.
Just appalled.
