when a local DJ said there was a report of a plane hitting one of the Trade Center towers. Damn, some clown flying where he shouldn't have been, I thought. Little bit later "A second plane has hit the other tower." Ok, that's no accident.
So on went the tv, and watching and listening. Didn't see any of the people jumping that I recall, saw that later(and God damn every miserable excuse for a reporter who decided they needed to replay Abu Graib shit over and over, but couldn't show any of that because 'it upset people'). One thing I do remember: some talking head, in the appropriate breathless voice, said something for the whatever-time about "Terror striking into the heartland", and I realized I was on my feet yelling "Terror striking? What about the PISSED OFF in the heartland, you moron!"
I didn't realize then just how many people would use this as an opportunity to piss on their own country. That there were people who actually wanted to believe Bush did it. That there were so many in Congress who'd sworn to uphold and protect who'd use it to try and tear down(found out just what that oath meant to them).
But the most of us remember('Day of Service' my ass). And we support striking at the people behind this, and we support the troops. I've got my gripes with Bush 43, but going after the bad guys in Afghanistan and Iraq and other places isn't one of them.
That's all for now, just not sure how to put things.
9 comments:
My father was in the hospital. He called me and said, "honey, turn on the TV." I asked, "What channel?" "Any channel," was his reply. I sat watching, the second plane hadn't hit yet. I remember dad saying, "Honey, this isn't an accident." And I watched the second plane hit. I remember just sitting there. And when the towers fell, I broke.
I seem to be filled with more grief and rage today than I have been on past September 11s. I am not sure why. I could very easily spend the day at Gitmo with an axe handle and a length of chain, and not feel a trace of remorse.
But you know, I think I am angrier at the homegrown "blame America first" crowd, and the sick dogs that actually seem to want to believe that it was an inside job.
May those who were taken be at eternal peace, and may the righteous hellfire of justice pour down the throats of the barbarians.
Hey, Gordon, this day is much different for me, too. I'm not sure why, but the anger is stronger today than it has been in the past. I made a remark about it to others.
Fire:
Bingo. I was always sad/pissed on this day, but this year it's much worse. Music is partly to blame I suppose...I was making c-scrolls for a door in the shop today and I had the mp3 player on shuffle, and up comes Copland's Appalachian Spring. I had been thinking about all the Mamas and Daddies that didn't make it back home that day, and those thoughts, along with the music had me bawling like a baby.
Of course that soon transcended into blistering white hot rage, and a general feeling of impotence.
Then the next leap was to our current situation and the pack of thugs, bullies and commies that want to destroy the greatest fucking system of self governance that ever hit the planet.
I think that's your link to elevated emotions today. Well, that and how September 11 is now a "National Day of Service."
Fuck you. That's what September 12 is for. You sonsabitches want to steal 9-11 now?
Forgive the ramblings of a cranky old anvil-smiter. I also apologize for the coarse language...but sometimes there are only certain types of words that fit the bill.
Gordon,
There is no need for an apology. I'm a bit feisty myself and tend to get a little vocal. Truth be told, cuss words are just better. And if you think you're cranky....stay far away when I have PMS.
You summed it up perfectly and I'll stand with you on it.
So are we talking wood working with the C-scrolls? Or metal work? I want to clarify since you made reference to "anvil-smiter". My father was in wood working for years. I remember a particular scent when I was little. He would come home smelling like cedar. Ten years ago, before I moved into my own house, he had a present for me. A HUGE cedar chest that he made for me. You want to talk about bawling like a baby. I didn't think anything could top that. But he did a few months later with a housewarming gift: A Ruger P95.
Fire:
Sorry, no cedar here. Steel. That's why I love this blog...apparently somewhere else in this great wide world there is another rightwing nutjob blacksmith. I would imagine we are a dying breed, so I like to keep up with what's going on over here.
As for your dad, well, he sounds great. My daughter is 7 now, and she is an ass-kicker, which is exactly what any self-respecting father wants his little girl to be. When she leaves home for college or whatever, I will make sure she has a brand-spanky new 12 gauge pump gun to take with her and stick in the closet.
There are too many wolves out there, and there is no way that I'm sending her off empty-handed.
I checked out your blog, and I like it. I used to have one myself, but life got busy and I let it slide. Anyway, I have added you to my daily read. Thanks!
Glad to have you anytime, Gordon. I had looked at your profile yesterday and found out that you didn't have a blog. We'll have to keep in touch.
My father is a pretty awesome man. There was a time when all he cared about was his boys. (I have 2older brothers) When he realized that I won't back down from anything, he gained respect for me and I was able to tolerate him more. I shot my first 12 gauge shotgun when I was 5. My brothers, the chickensh*ts at the time, were 9 and 11. I shot that gun and it flipped me backwards and it was AWESOME! Both brothers looked at my mom and dad and said, "She's crazy!" It was great! From that moment on I was hooked. And then it was on to rifles, then pistols.
As for Firehand being a nutjob...LOL, he's great.
Well, 'nutjob' is a lot more polite than many other things I've been called...
Glad you enjoy the place.
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