The Blasphemy of Cynicism

[Cynique]

I’m sure I’m in the minority when I heave a sigh and roll my eyes and gripe at the way the upcoming anniversary of the 911 episode is being hyped. But then I don’t care about being a lone voice in a chorus of blubbering babble. That’s how I roll.

OK, 10 years ago, a handful of Arabs with a minimal amount of effort and weaponry neutralized America’s state-of-the-art defense technology when a few hi-jacked airplanes flew into buildings, killing over 2,000 souls in NY and DC and PA. Tragic. Shocking. Yet, Death has a way of being random, casting its pall on anyone at any time. And it never takes a holiday. Thousands of people, young, old, Black, White, Asian, Christian, Jew, Muslim, Buddhist, sick, and healthy die every day under accidental circumstances, their demises invariably invoking grief. But these deaths taken singly are understandably deemed less significant because they were not the casualties of our national pride, - casualities who were elevated to martydom, as acts of duty displayed by others during this tragedy were regarded as heroic. So be it.

When the smoke had cleared at the sites where the targeted landmarks were reduced to rubble, America went into a period of deep mourning that was exceeded only by gut-wrenching outrage! For the first time in history this great nation experienced what it was like to be jolted from its invincible status Things like this weren’t supposed to happen in the promised land because God had heeded our request to bless America and its citizens were more worthy of being spared attacks than people of other countries. In response to this violation by the terrorists, revenge and retaliation would be ours!

So began the war on terrorism, an operation that consisted of sending troops to engage in battle on foreign terrain against an enemy hiding out in caves. Way to go! This would stop these evil-doers from invading America to poison the water systems while Homeland Security was preoccupied with assigning colors to the untimely alerts it timidly issued.

Now, after a decade of breast-beating the nation gears up for an orgy of remiscences and testimonies and memorials as the networks vie for audiences to the obligatory specials that will re-visit this historical event and wallow in a collective wail of self-pity.

Presumably everybody remembers where they were when the news of the twin towers broke. And it wasn’t long before we were all glued to our TVs and radios. The ironic thing for me was that in my sphere of activity here in the midwest, the reaction to this catastrophe was like that of spectators watching an exciting movie, eagerly waiting to see what would happen next. It was surreal…

In the years that followed this bleak event, Americans being the self-absorbed people that we are, returned to the daily hum-drum of our lives, content to feel sad one day a year when TV stations would haul out the tapes and remind us that it was time to watch the planes fly into the two towers again, - even as we temporarily repressed our misgivings over the wars that were depleting our treasury, killing innocent civilians and American soldiers while searching for nonexistent weapons of mass destruction - all in the name of 911. Pundits say this momentous disaster changed America forever. So damned what? The alternative to change can be stagnant complacency.

Whatever. My sympathies do go out to everyone who has ever lost a loved one, including the bereaved survivors of 911 victims. I know something about grief. I lost an innocent 20-year-old grandson to the bullets of street gang terrorism. And so it goes…