I know, bad taste. Honestly, I have to confess, I was not perturbed by the 9/11 attacks when they happened, so I obviously still do not give much of a damn about them today. As far as I can see it, we are fairly fortunate that such an event is rare enough for us to be alarmed in the first place. This comes from a deeply pessimistic perspective, however, so I don't expect anyone else to agree. But, I feel that we are lucky enough to spend most of our time killing ourselves and one another, rather than suffering from external hostility. So, like a certain radical black preacher of a certain Democratic presidential candidate, I couldn't help but the see the attacks as an inevitability, and a little bit karmic (chickens come to roost, all that).
Obviously, I feel bad for the families of the victims. I laud the men and women who tried their hardest to save those lost in the ruin. And I wish that it hadn't happened. Yet, I do not feel bad for fully grown people whose naive sense of security were shattered. I do not appreciate that the attack sparked mindless patriotism in a climate of fear. And I do not pity this country for having lost 4,000 men on that day, when we have sacrificed that same number fighting a war that only occurred because of the mindless patriotism and blind thirst for vengeance that followed one single attack on us, while claiming the lives of over 100,000 Iraqi civilians. We have lost any claims to sympathy for these attacks, and it disgusts me that they are still brought up in an attempt to stoke the flames of nationalism. The flames which have driven us to become all the more worthy of the attacks that we were responding to.
The victims should be mourned, their families remembered. But, the blood on our hands for letting our own fear and anger get the better of us should not be forgotten.