Some Thoughts (Not Comprehensive, but Based Around Making the Mistake of Turning on my Television This Morning) on 09.11

Okay. I know it’s September 11th. I know it every year. I will never forget as long as I live. It’s the one day in my life — okay maybe the second to losing my virginity — where each second changed every second of my subsequent existence. Even as a smug left-wing fucktard posing as an intellectualish-type, I tear up at the the thought of running into a classmate in the hallway between 2nd and 3rd period telling me that a plane hit the World Trade Center and not believing her. Nor will I ever forget arriving in third period to see my music instructor (I used to play a mean jazz trumpet — this is entirely fictional, not what follows, but the having remote skill at music beyond reading notes), who, as far as I know, still exists in 1985 and a quite genial and laid-back dude, not the kind of guy you’d ever expect to shit about national security as long as his dealer was okay. So I walk in and see him standing at the radio with his hand over his mouth looking like the trombonist had just impaled his cat in front of him (can that happen? Should I try it on my cat? The only trombone I’ve ever personally handled is the rusty kind and that would be really hard to pull off with a neutered cat.).

Nor — before the first tower had collapsed (I’m tearing up just thinking about it), watching the tower collapse on TV and seeing my hard-ass (but in I’m going to be a dick to you fucking kids but here for you day and night, in the classroom or out of it) AP US history teacher break down and in a tear-stained voice say, to no one in particular, “Oh my God. Nothing will ever be the same.” Watching in complete disbelief, calling my father the second on leaving school just to let him know that I was all right, because the aftermath, who knew? It was the seminal moment of my life, and in the life of anyone affected by it — essentially every American, Iraqi, Afghani, Pakistani, and what ever other nationality I left out that who’ve we’ve been fucking for the last decade. Shit last century.

Trust, no one forgets.
I’m going to spend it like I do every 09.11, remembering those who lost their lives that day, thinking of the insane courage of those incredible first-responders (I would have completely shat myself in their place), spending the one day a year I don’t want to see George W. Bush in handcuffs (doesn’t apply to Cheney), thanking our troops, mourning the ones that have fallen or been wounded in several meaningless wars launched on false premises thanks to 09.11, and remembering the hundreds of thousands of Iraqis and Afghanis and Pakistanis who are dead thanks to those wars. It’s a solemn day, and even when I’m 70 (who the fuck am I kidding? If I last 45 years, it’ll be a small miracle) I’ll remember it and those who suffered and suffer loss on it.
What I won’t do is go anywhere near the mainstream media’s “magic number that ends in a 5 or a 0” (because unsurprisingly, counting is not something they do well) daylong 09.11-a-thon. Cause if you think those surgically-enhanced millionaires give a shit about the victims of 09.11, you’re nuttier than Osama bin Laden thinking he could fuck with New Yorkers and expect not to get face-fucked (literally, that did happen). I’m not going to indulge in the entertainment industry’s (yeah mainstream media, that includes you) one day per year of giving a fuck about 09.11 victims, survivors, first-responders, police, fire, our soldiers etc. I’m not going to indulge in professional sports’ continuing jingoistic idolatry of the military and their grandstanding of 09.11.

Sports might be the worst offenders on this count. I mean what company even fucking makes American flags the size of Texas for these military circle-jerks? Apparently a shitload of companies. I guess I can buy a “Heavy-Duty Poly” 40′-75′ edition (I have no idea what that means) from “Flag Center” in nearby Wauwatosa, Wis. for just $5,100. I’d have to be missing grey matter to do it, but at least I know the option’s out there. I’m not impressed by fly-overs — and you assholes out there bitching about how necessary it is to cut health care funding for old and poor people who need it most, how much do those fucking fly-overs cost? I’ll stand and applaud when returning soldiers, decorated soldiers, wounded soldiers throw out the first pitch or are honored before or during a game — I just don’t get why sports are the avenues for that. Shouldn’t we be honoring them like all the time? I support troops. I have friends serving and have had friends who have served. My father served. Both my grandparents did. I just never want to see strong, smart, motivated, young people — people who are just starting to figure shit out and decide what they want to do with their lives — sent to die for no reason. And that’s practically the reality of every war we’ve fought in the last fifty years. That’s not your stereotypical “point at laugh as the sissy LGBT leftie hates America in the high-pitched Jon Stewart voice (you know exactly what I’m talking about),” that’s fact. Support the troops? Bring them home.

Back to the media though, I don’t need to see the towers being hit by planes. I don’t need to see them crumbling or horrified/terrified New Yorkers fearing the worst. I certainly don’t need to see G-Dubs, and have no desire to see bin Laden. None of the above will ever be anything but permanently seared into my memory. I did momentarily slip though, in like one of those going to the checkout line and realizing that Nestle Crunch is like $0.79 manners. I watched about ten minutes of 09.11 coverage and saw that kid at St. Patrick’s reading the letter to his dead father he never met — who’s dead because he was an NYPD lieutenant who fell on 09.11 while helping fellow first-responders — and sobbed for a solid ten. Tearing up just thinking about it.

I’ve never lived in New York or D.C. nor did anyone (to my knowledge) I’m closely associated with lose anything but the pair of pants they pissed on 09.11. So maybe my perspective’s skewed. This whole media hullabaloo about the 10-year anniversary just feels like it’s about them doing what they do best — self-promotion. The people affected, directly and obliquely, are the ones who get fucked. So when it comes to remembering 09.11 and how completely terrified/shocked/devasted I was, I’m going to do it by hanging out with my parents, thinking of all affected, and keeping far away from the media bit.
Rest in peace departed, stand strong survivors, lower your rent New York, hunt Timmy Geithner D.C.. And fuck off MSM.

Updated: Amended to fix some orthographical errors.

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~ by Benji on 11 September 2011.

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