It's 6 years today, right about now
Sep. 11th, 2007 10:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwendolyngraceGrocery shopping tonight and maybe recording for Spellcast.
Somewhere along the way I have to get back to WRITING FIC.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ficwriter1966, don't feel bad about getting distracted by that vignette I posted about the picture you showed us, because it's been burgeoning as a bunny in my head, too!
Last but definitely not least, it's 6 years today, right about now. Well, now when I started typing this up.
I was in a staff meeting at Strong and Jeff Bloss came in to tell us that the talk radio was saying someone had crashed a plane into the WTC. We found a TV, turned it on...and within an hour, we were put on alert to receive any casualties being flown out from New York. Only there was no one to recover, no one to bring out on MercyFlight.
What I really remember about that week was being angry. Angry at Americans who suddenly feared for their safety, merely because attacks on our own soil are so rare, and somehow thought that we were all-of-a-sudden "Not Safe". Kids, we were *never* safe. These same Americans looked to our government for leadership, and instead were duped into believing a warmonger and his cronies and ceding so much power to them in their quest for vengeance that we still are suffering from the shell game they're playing with our liberties. Angry at the terrorists, of course - but also confident in the American power to mock, knowing that ultimately, laughter is the biggest blow to a zealot.
Feeling an unrestrained love and respect for Peter Jennings.
Wishing that I had cable so I could watch Jon Stewart for the stories that were not a network line of bullshit.
Watching the president's address that Thursday with my graduate school class, and thinking, "Am I crazy? Or does he look....gleeful that this happened?" I mean, yeah, he was somber and all, but underneath the surface, he was *thrumming* with excitement. That's right, not anger, not rage, not nervous energy - excitement. And I thought to myself, "Self, if ever you were to subscribe to a conspiracy theory, here's one for you to think about: Central Intelligence knew *something* was up with Bin Laden and that *some* attempt was going to be made. And no one *ever* expected it would be so horrifically successful. They were told to turn a blind eye, to let it go through, so that Bush could grab for power and finish his Daddy's war, become the wartime president he always wanted to be, get a little glory in his pocket Stamping Out the Evil and Defending America."
See? Sometimes I'm frightened at the way my mind works. On September 13, I thought this.
I was lucky in that I had no personal acquaintances who were lost that day. I do have a cousin who was flying for American Airlines, but we learned fairly quickly that he was not scheduled to fly that day. (He subsequently lost his job in the layoffs that followed.) Joel was caught in Chicago, but got a ride to Coronation and thence got another ride home. Michael wrote that fabulous song, a song I would never have been able to put together so quickly. And we ushered in a new era.
Damn. Lots of things to talk about today.
Somewhere along the way I have to get back to WRITING FIC.
ficwriter1966, don't feel bad about getting distracted by that vignette I posted about the picture you showed us, because it's been burgeoning as a bunny in my head, too!Last but definitely not least, it's 6 years today, right about now. Well, now when I started typing this up.
I was in a staff meeting at Strong and Jeff Bloss came in to tell us that the talk radio was saying someone had crashed a plane into the WTC. We found a TV, turned it on...and within an hour, we were put on alert to receive any casualties being flown out from New York. Only there was no one to recover, no one to bring out on MercyFlight.
What I really remember about that week was being angry. Angry at Americans who suddenly feared for their safety, merely because attacks on our own soil are so rare, and somehow thought that we were all-of-a-sudden "Not Safe". Kids, we were *never* safe. These same Americans looked to our government for leadership, and instead were duped into believing a warmonger and his cronies and ceding so much power to them in their quest for vengeance that we still are suffering from the shell game they're playing with our liberties. Angry at the terrorists, of course - but also confident in the American power to mock, knowing that ultimately, laughter is the biggest blow to a zealot.
Feeling an unrestrained love and respect for Peter Jennings.
Wishing that I had cable so I could watch Jon Stewart for the stories that were not a network line of bullshit.
Watching the president's address that Thursday with my graduate school class, and thinking, "Am I crazy? Or does he look....gleeful that this happened?" I mean, yeah, he was somber and all, but underneath the surface, he was *thrumming* with excitement. That's right, not anger, not rage, not nervous energy - excitement. And I thought to myself, "Self, if ever you were to subscribe to a conspiracy theory, here's one for you to think about: Central Intelligence knew *something* was up with Bin Laden and that *some* attempt was going to be made. And no one *ever* expected it would be so horrifically successful. They were told to turn a blind eye, to let it go through, so that Bush could grab for power and finish his Daddy's war, become the wartime president he always wanted to be, get a little glory in his pocket Stamping Out the Evil and Defending America."
See? Sometimes I'm frightened at the way my mind works. On September 13, I thought this.
I was lucky in that I had no personal acquaintances who were lost that day. I do have a cousin who was flying for American Airlines, but we learned fairly quickly that he was not scheduled to fly that day. (He subsequently lost his job in the layoffs that followed.) Joel was caught in Chicago, but got a ride to Coronation and thence got another ride home. Michael wrote that fabulous song, a song I would never have been able to put together so quickly. And we ushered in a new era.
Damn. Lots of things to talk about today.
