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. . . . . . mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
. . . . . In dedication to
. . . . . . mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm everyone who was lost
. . . . . or lost someone
. . . . . . mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm September 11, 2001:
. . . . . Anada 443
. . . . . . mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm "Pointless"
by Gloomchen
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
09/30/01
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Locked away in my little Corporate America office, I start to
overhear murmurs from those sitting near me. Something about a plane crash.
Something about the World Trade Center. I leave my cubicle to talk just as
the phone rings again and we are told of a second plane crash. The second
tower. Shortly after, the Pentagon. And shortly after that, buildings
collapsing.
I glance over at Jennifer's cubicle. She, like the rest of us, had
decided to BLATANTLY BREAK COMPANY RULES by feverishly searching cnn.com and
msnbc.com and any other news site she can get to load. She can't get ahold
of her husband, and she's growing more worried by the minute. See, her
husband is in the reserves, and she knows these events mean she might not
see her husband for a long, long time.
I spend all morning wading through the truth and the rumors, and it's
not until noon that I even begin thinking about people I happen to know
myself. Hey, my dad drives semi on the east coast; primarily Boston, but
times are hard for truckers who haul cars with this downturn in the economy,
and who knows if he could've taken a job in NYC or DC because he needed the
money. Never mind that my good ol' online pal Flack works in a government
building -- I promptly emailed him saying it was time for him to get sent
home alright -- or that one of my best friends, Steve, aka HOE writer
M4D_3LF himself is currently in the army stationed in upstate New York.
What will this mean for him?
Jennifer gets ahold of her brother's family who live in DC. She
talks to her niece on the phone who tells her about school being let out
early because every five minutes, another kid was being pulled out of class
because their parents worked at the Pentagon. Everyone seems to be alright.
Everyone was wondering why we couldn't leave work early. Of course,
Corporate America doesn't work that way, and in truth, it probably would
have been unnecessary to do so. Although it really is difficult to do your
job when you do business with major cities and government offices almost
exclusively, and everyone else has been sent home.
[*****]
I take a look back on September 11th's events and I find it nearly
impossible to believe that me -- some little chicky in Podunkville, Iowa,
was so closely affected by things that happened well over a thousand miles
away. After all, I've seen and heard of many disasters and blah blah blah
since the day I was born, and none of it ever fazed me. I live in Iowa, I
would say. Nothing like that means anything to anyone here. But now as I
drive to work and pass a house that painted an American flag directly on to
their siding, all of that feeling of being out of touch with the rest of the
world seems to be long gone.
And in that vein, this "patriotism" swell that rose from people who
never before would've given half a fuck almost makes me think twice about
how removed I really am. I've always been patriotic in the way that I love
the tenets of my country and that I prize my freedom so far above anything
else I have ever been given in my life. I don't wave flags and I don't care
for the way our government runs, but I am an active political person and a
steadfast voter and supporter of that in which I believe. It's sad that it
took a tragedy for people to realize what they've had all along, I'm not an
innocent when it comes to taking things for granted, either.
It's been interesting watching the American people become educated
about what exactly this fight is all about -- the reactions were very
concise. First, it was, "JUST NUKE 'EM ALL!" Then, as we slowly realize
that would be doing precisely what they did to us, we decide we need to
punish the "right" people. Then, as we slowly realize these people have
nothing in their country and live only to die for their cause, we learn that
in actuality, no amount of force is going to bother them. They destroyed
our people, and our THINGS, but considering we're talking about people who
MIGHT live to a ripe old age of 40, where one out of every four children
die, people who own nothing and only have their beliefs... we're slowly
processing the fact that almost nothing we do to them will matter. If they
die, they're martyrs; if we die, they destroy demons. It's all win/win to
them. The only way they are defeated is if they subscribe to our ideals
and are forced to assimilate to our culture -- and even that is a win for
their nation in terms of prosperity and hope for the future.
So how can this battle be won? How can we return our lives to
normalcy, yet feel justice has been served? Are we doomed to simply burying
our dead and washing our hands of the whole affair? And what if it all
happens again?
Can the American people deal with knowing that this is something that
has hurt and touched all of us, but there is no true winning?
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
. . .------
* * ------ by Gloomchen (c) anada.net 09/30/01
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