Saturday, September 10, 2011


I remember where I was. Who doesn't? I was reading the numbers of gas meters in Bloomfield, Michigan. It was a meter that was inside, in the basement, and, as I climbed back into the hallway, I remember a young woman walking past me, in her hands a portable radio. "They're attacking us," she chirped. "We're downing all the planes, now."

I looked at her and went on my way.

Later, when I was in my car, the normal morning show was uncharacteristically bleak. We, the United States of Apathy, had been attacked. And, unfortunately, it had been a resounding success. The Twin Towers had fallen and there'd been an attack thwarted that led to a commercial jet-liner nose-diving into a Pennsylvania crop field.

More than 3000 people had been killed.

More than three thousand people. Murdered.

For no reason other than fanaticism.

As time went on--I watched the planes slam into the Towers every chance I got--it became apparent that some Islamic people hated the United States so very much that they would kill themselves to further the Jihad.

(A day after the attacks, a Muslim man in New York was beaten to death for the simple reason that he was a Muslim.)

And so it goes.


We had a cowboy for a President, ten years ago. He had won his post by cheating. He told the American people that if they (fill in the blank) and (fill in the blank) all would be fine; if the people did not (fill in the blank) then the terrorists would win. I am trying my hardest not to belittle the Cowboy, but it is tough.

Ten days after the attacks, the United States of America invaded Iraq, a Middle-Eastern country that was led by a tyrannical despot. It had been ascertained, through intelligence, that he had capabilities for "mass destruction." (These vehicles later became known as WMDs.)

We didn't find any. Whoops.

And so it goes.


Tomorrow, September 11, 2011, is the remembrance of....


There are terror alerts in New York and also Washington, DC. Citizens are told to go about there daily lives, pretend that nothing is amiss. Please let me tell you: Everything is amiss. We, as a nation, are a cunt-hair's width from mass destruction. That is not a wide margin.

Every day, I read a newspaper blurb that reports Thousands die in Iraq: Suicide bomber kills himself and thousands and Peace talks between Israel and Jordan stall and The new bomber: woman. Every time I read those stories, I think to myself, well, why not here? How tough would it be to strap explosives around yourself and go to a mall or a baseball game or a fireworks show and blow your ass up? Simply-said: It'd be simple.


I don't mourn, anymore, for the thousands who were killed. They were innocent. I still believe that. Innocent in a couple of ways (as was I): First, they assumed America was unassailable. Second, they had their heads buried in their asses, oblivious to world news and immanent threats.

We, as a nation, got a rude awakening.


All that said, I want to kill fanatic Muslims. I may chop their heads off and post it on the internet, a la Daniel the Reporter. I would waterboard their asses till they told me some intelligence, bogus or not. I'd shoot 'em in the kneecaps and then the stomach and urinate upon them as they lay writhing to death in their own piss and shit and blood. And I would have a clear conscience.


I was raised to love all people. I have that instilled in me. I also grew up and learned that hate is not always such a bad thing. If my family members had died, I would be even more of a nutcase. And, but, seriously, though? Isn't that the be-all end-all: Love one another. I try. But sometimes it is tough.

*** is the "anniversary." Not a lot has changed. After a brief brief brief period of bi-partisanship, we're back to the same ole Washington. After a brief period of "all for one and one for all", we remain, as a nation, considerably divisive. What'd we learn? Nothing, I reckon.


Except for this: We learned that peeps want us all dead...cuz we're infidels.


To which I say, "Bullshit. I'm not an infidel. Getcho facts straight, motherfuckers."


Tomorrow is 9/11/2011. Ten long incongruous years. Fuck. We're screwed. I want to end this with a simple 5-7-5:

the Towers did fall

much confusion abounded

we learned about Death