Thursday, September 11, 2003

So I'm an heartless son of a beech..... Up yours, and the horse you rode in on.

Yesterday was a prime example of what's wrong with the United States and its leaders. Madly dashing from one venue to another, the clown we call a president mouths platitudes to the memories of the dead at the WTC, the Pentagon, Tomb of the Unknown, and his dog Sparky's grave site. I'm pretty sure he can't tell you the name of anyone who was smashed or burned or shot. He might remember the name of the one that was run over by the '63 Lincoln limo.

That all of those folks died in horrible ways is a tragedy on a personal and professional level. But people die. It is what we do and it is inevitable. Regardless of your religious or spiritual beliefs, none of us will escape the Grim Reaper. Thousands of people die in this country every day.

Regardless, the media turned what should have been a quiet memorial ceremony accompanied by some subdued saber rattling into a 14 hour circus with squalling children, lights in the sky and street vendors. Shame on us all. Shame on our leaders. Shame on those exploitative sons of beeches using mourning children in that fashion. Shame on their parents, guardians. whatever. But most of all, shame on you and me for wallowing in a national pity pot.

People hate us. Get over it.

People want to kill us. We're rich by any standard employed in the minds of the majority of humans on this planet. If you can't live with that knowledge, accept it for what it is and prepare for the inevitable attacks, why, then, you are prime cannon fodder
-- we don't NEED anyone as stupid as you, so might as well put you on the front lines because you aren't useful for anything else.

The rest of the world is gunning for us. Indeed. This is a suprise to you?

Go ahead. Turn the other cheek. But pass me the rest of the ammo before you do.

In memoriam 09-11-2001.