Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The obligatory September 11th story.

I was going to save this one for September, but what the hell.

The night of September 10th, 2001, I was 14 years old. For some strange reason, everyone that night was tense. My neighbors were fighting, my parents were fighting, hell even on WWF Raw is War, tensions were WAY higher than normal. At one point, Good Ol’ J.R. tried to lunge for the throat of Paul Heyman over a broken commentary table. Everything in the world felt tense.

I went to bed with absolutely NO inkling as to why everyone was acting like a bunch of chickens with their heads lobbed off.

The next morning, Mama woke me up early. She was heading to the bank, and needed me to keep watch of Orion, who was 9 at the time. I kissed her on the cheek, and Mama went out the door. I went to brush my teeth, and then I sat in the living room.
At the time, I lived in a run-down shack that was falling apart in one of the worst, most boring, devoid of life neighborhoods in all of Illinois. I didn’t even have a bed, so the living room was where I spent all of my teen years. Orion slept on a tiny foam mat that too was falling apart, and I sat on the couch-bed hybrid.

I couldn’t go back to sleep. So I flipped to VH1, hoping to catch a music video or two. But all I saw was a close-up of a building with a lot of smoke billowing out. The TV was on mute.

“GREAT” I said to myself. “They must be re-re-re-re-re-re-playing the Oklahoma City episode of Behind the Music AGAIN. It’s not that I don’t feel for those poor people, I do. It’s just that they had played the special so many times. When do the survivors have a chance to heal? Okay. It’s a terror attack. It happened. Now shut up about it, so the survivors can HEAL.”

I know I know. Not quite what you would expect. But this was my attitude in 2001.
So I thumbed over to MTV. “Wait… that’s the same… segment?” I turned back to VH1 and turned the volume up. A woman’s voice hit the speakers.

Ladies and Gentlemen, for those of you just joining us, a plane has just flown into the World Trade Center. We are now going over to camera two, which is stationed in the harbor of-


I dropped the remote. I had just watched untold hundreds of people die right in front of my eyes.

With word of the first plane, I thought this had been another accident. Planes had gone into the buildings before, or so I had been told, but with plane #2, I knew this was something more. I just didn’t know what.

Picking the remote back up a short time later, I popped on CNN, just in time to get word about the Pentagon being hit. It looked like someone just took a slice out from it. Then they were wiring in word about another plane that was going down. It seemed like the world was just tumbling apart in front of me, and I stood still, stone faced. Not sure what to feel.

I turned around. Orion apparently woke up when the second plane hit the WTC, but he was so still, I didn’t hear him awaken. His glassy eyes rolled over to meet mine, and with quickened breath, he took my hand. “Kori??? Are we gonna be okay?”

As I felt his little hand tighten, the only thing I could say was “I… don’t know.”

On instinct, I started making a round of phone calls to the people we knew. I wanted to see if they were ok. One cousin was near the Pentagon, but thankfully WAY out of harm’s way. A classmate Mama had was an employee of one of the shops inside the second tower. He was about to call THEM, to say he was lost in traffic and was going to be late. I can’t really imagine what went through their heads at that point.

My house was quiet that night. We just had the news stations on every TV set in the house.

Thursday, I watched SmackDown. The ramp was full of wrestlers, all quietly crying, as Lillian Garcia warbled the national anthem. WWF, WCW and ECW talent stood together in unison. Heyman and J.R. were even seen holding each other, tears between them.
It was probably the first mega indoor live event held after September 11th, and I’ll give McMahon credit just this once, it was an ok show.

OK. At that point, I don’t think there was anything better we could have been as a nation, other than OK.

That night, nobody’s storyline continued. Everything just stopped, and the wrestlers did whatever they could, as backstage speeches and Red Cross ads played. The sentiment was that we should just continue on as we were. If we start to act fearful, and change out lives, then the terrorists win.

But in the 10 years since that day, we DID change.

We now discourage children as young as 4, from bringing bagged lunches to school, because they might have bombs or weapons or drugs in them.

There are children ~ AMERICAN BORN AND RAISED LEGAL ~ children, who have to go to school afraid, because if they even look slightly Muslim, they will be beaten, and possibly killed by their peers, or their neighbors.
And as the police come to scoop up the remains of what could have been scholars, dump these baby bodies into plastic bags like so much garbage in a Ziploc, these fool cops just mutter “well um it serves them right. Fuckin’ terrorist.”
We live in a country that would glorify a dead child for the name of “Freedom”.

We have airports that are over crowded with all kinds of cancer causing scanners and child molesters, ready to pat your privates and invade your buttholes in the name of “Freedom”.

Our businesses and schools have metal and plastic detectors, you can’t even bring a nail file with you to work, because you might be a terrorist if you do!

We kill ourselves and our nation’s youth, for what we imagine is Freedom. All because of 9-11.

We tortured our own 9-11 victims too! Not a day goes by that some commercial or sappy coin ad airs on 93% of our TV stations, with the images of that terrible day. The victims have had to have their loved ones dead bodies rubbed in their faces every day for almost 10 years. So we will “never forget”.

Never forget?? How can I have a chance to forget such a deplorable act? The fear in my little brother’s eyes as he clung to me, not knowing if our mom would make it home ok?

Worse? How will the victims ever HEAL from what WE the people did by making show after show, drama after drama about the worst day in their lives?

Osama Bin Laden sent us a few men to fly into a few buildings, and take as many innocents with them as they could, in order to strike fear into our hearts.
And that rat bastard WON. He got his wish. Because we live in a nation of self-killing COWARDS. Pussy-willows afraid of our own shadows.

So how did I feel on the night of May 1st, 2011?

Here I was, no longer the confused 14 year old, but the 24 year old cynic, gazing at the WGN news during dinner time, when the word broke out.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we are receiving word that President Obama will be making a speech at the White House in a few moments. Osama Bin Laden is dead.

There was a quiet for a few seconds. I thought this was a prank or a conspiracy story. But no, as I flipped to CNN, it became very clear that this was in fact, the truth.

I did what any rational, mature, red-blooded American would do if given the chance.

I toasted to the news with a bottle of Ice Mountain.

I know it’s not right to feel joy at a death. Certainly I ought to know better than that.

But… how can I not feel just a shred of relief that the bastard that re-shaped my country is now de-composing at the bottom of the sea?

I shouldn’t be too happy, seeing a death in a violent manner.
But somehow, seeing his brains splattered across his IKEA furniture, at the mansion my Democrat-run troops found just made me sigh in relief.

IKEA. Yeah, it figures. That’s exactly what the world’s greatest threat thinks of buying when he’s hiding from the country he destroyed. When I think terror, I think IKEA.

(I think their sales just took a nosedive at that remark.)

And that’s probably why I’m not crying right now. While this asshole was enjoying satellite TV, cushy slippers, Goody hair ribbons, dark chocolate bon bons and an IKEA King size Serta, my ass is living with my mom, in an old house that’s falling apart, trying to scrimp and save for a 25 cent box of mac & cheese that I have to share with Orion. (Now age 19.)

My country’s economy DOVE DOWN, because business execs pretended that our being attacked would “suddenly” make all of them broke. I guess The Stock Market is a coked up bitch by the way we let these bozos allow disasters to make our national debt soar.

So while I’m trying to find steady work, this assclown is in Pakistan, in a rent controlled, air conditioned MANSION, drinking Hennessey from a Disney Princess Sippy Cup.

One more time, it’s improper and immoral, but I am smiling at the thought of Osama Bin Laden’s blood splooshed all over his PlayStation 3. Fuck, I’ll bet he’s the reason why the PSN went down last week too! I bet he was stealing your credit card info from the PlayStation Network to buy himself an XBOX 360 with Kinect! Why? Because that’s how terrorists roll.

I want to believe that this is the end of a 10 year odyssey into Hell for America.
But until we learn to ease up on our threat detectors, and learn to live as though this happened 10 FUCKING YEARS AGO and NOT today, then I guess there is no resolution.

Osama won when we became TSA’s personal backdoor coward bitch.


But we won when we stained his Rachel Ray cookware with his brain juices.

Non-stick my Freedom Loving ass!!