9-11 musing

(Firstly, Roci's questioning is not being ignored. My work load has avalanched, and I've not been able to finish. This weekend is my goal)

Nine-eleven. (NOT nine-one-one...that's the emergency phone number.) Tune in your television box, or radio, and let the scab-picking commence. Rolls of Our Honored Dead are unfurled and read to renew the mourning of those who should be over it by now.If it were for a purpose, it would be one thing. It could be a tool of maintaining National Rage at the Evil Ones wot done it. (Curse the Japs...kill The Hun...like that. We used to do war so well .) Now we are involved in an endless round of Kum-ba-ya. Light those candles, and get out the Kleenex. If we had a focus of Evil, we could at least flick our scabs at it, but even Osama bin Ladin is reduced to a Grecian Formula ad, with his hot new beard color and all. No, kiddies, there must be an Emperor, a Fuehrer, to aim our rage at. "Terrorism" is wholly insufficient. An "ism" is only good for Cold wars, filled with spies and propaganda. The Hatfields did not aim thar shootin' irons at "McCoyism"; they were too busy shooting at Cletus and Clem. This hoedown is yet another reminder of our National Impotency, and there is no magic pill to save us.

At least the mourners have gotten a day off.