20 years, etc
On September Eleventh, Two Thousand and One, I was Nine years old, counting nineteen days from turning Ten. The big One-Oh. Two-digit age. I was home, sick with the flu. So I saw it all unfold on television. My sky on Staten Island was darkened by what was happening across the bay. I still remember the news announcing the atom bombers had been set into standby flying mode, even though I have not ever found any official sources documenting what I know I heard and saw. Seeing a tiny plane in the sky capable of wiping out an entire small nation, flying to some unknown third world nation, was quite a revelation of the real drama of American power. Indeed, not a few of us thought the explosion and mushroom cloud that grew from the collapsing towers was some sort of nuclear device. I was too young to remember the ‘93 bombing, but I remember murmurings “next time” the bomb being bigger. We all kind of knew Al-Qaeda would try again. We never knew it would be such an unexpected method. Indeed, this is perhaps why the desert folk keep beating us in the long run. We believe lighting strikes twice, they believe lighting strikes differently. We’re never really prepared for the next strike, standing guard where the last strike hit.
I was unique among my peers in that I owned a computer. We even had internet at home. This was not quite common in Two Thousand and One. It had been a few months since John Titor - Famed time traveler and possibly one of the first internet trolls of the late Nineties and early Two Thousands - had last posted. He had gone silent, and if you were part of conspiracy websites in this time, you felt a certain uneasiness that something was about to happen. John Titor, whoever he was, predicted that soon the world would descend into authoritarianism where the cities would turn on the rural people. The rural people would feel more allied to Russia than their own government.
Twenty years later, I still read some of his posts and wonder if he really was a time traveler. He gave exact dates - always conflicting and contradictory - but at best, they seem a few years off from the timeline he projected. I remember considering his disappearance. I was only Nine, but I still loved a good story.
When I was Eight or Seven, my father brought me to a George Bush rally in New Hampshire. We were on vacation, and he decided to visit the rally there. I have a very blurry memory of seeing a young George Bush cast in front of a bright summer day. Almost like that famed Biden photo with the light behind him as a halo. George Bush talked about things I didn’t understand, about concerns I didn’t have, and about goals I didn’t care about. I imagine somewhere in the backdrop must have been lurking all his dark cabal that entered into power with him.
I’ve always been a cynic when it came to trusting people. I had no reason to be. My parents were loving, and my friends were mostly loyal. Yet I’ve always been cynical to what people tell me. I recall thinking the entire idea of politics was sort of dumb. And my dad told me Bush may be who he’s voting for, but he’s not perfect. I’m glad for the caution to politics my father taught me. I think I’ve been gobbling black pills since my single-digit years because of it.
Two years after Nine Eleven, I remember being in a mock-debate at my Grammar School. I was now Eleven or Twelve (I do apologize, as remembering my age is a bit hard because I went to school a bit early and my Birthday was such that I was always the youngest of my peers). The debate was between “Brianna”, a self-proclaimed Clinton loyalist who would vote for John Kerry if she was old enough, and a male student who’s face and name have been stolen by aging memory. I only remember he really wanted to bomb Iraq. I don’t remember what either of these students said, but I remember at the end I was overdosing on black pills.
I don’t remember anything about the Republican side of the debate. I only remember that I learned Republicans are idiots. But I remember after the debate, Brianna showed me her own photo with Bill Clinton. I noticed Bill had a white support holding himself up behind. He was a cardboard cut out… I pointed this out, and Brianna winged, trying to explain it was the ground tiling or something. That’s when I learned Democrats lie.
It amuses me that I have no memory of what either said. My brain, over the years, determined whatever either side said was too cancerous to store in my mind. But at that moment, at age Eleven or Twelve, I became for-sure a-political. I also recall that at home, I remember my dad regretting voting for Bush as the Iraq war drums began to sound. Even before we invaded, he was telling me about Vietnam and about how this would be a repeat of that. I wonder if he also said that about Afghanistan. My father’s wisdom in politics is something I am eternally thankful for. Cynicism towards politicians and their promises is wisdom to rest on God, not men. I just don’t believe anything anyone says in the realms of power.
There are other points I could draw over, but Twenty years and one day after Nine Eleven, I find it fascinating how much of my political worldview had already been hardened into assured belief before it even occurred. I am now on the cusp of turning Thirty. I am a depressed reactionary of sorts, with accelerationist tendencies. I really haven’t changed in those Twenty Years. I still hold the same morals, the same ethics, and the same disgust of politicians. All that’s changed is my hope that anyone in leadership will accomplish these frames. By that I mean, I have no more hope left.
Twenty Years later, Nine Eleven is my reminder that the American Empire has always been incompetent. It has always been quick to act, but slow to react. It is an unstable system that anyone with a band of motivated followers can lead off a ledge with a bit of planning.
Yes, you should pray for the victims and their families.
Yes, what happened was evil.
And yes, it was an inevitable consequence of Globalization.
The tragedy is. the common American hasn’t learned why the world hates them. They have learned nothing in regard to why their way of life is not desired. And now our government, having lost the war on terror abroad, is fighting the war on terror at home to attempt to colonize itself instead of Iraq or Afganastan. I ask God often, when will my leaders see the terror comes from thee, not from me.
Twenty Years later, Detroit and Baltimore have higher crime rates than Kabul.
Twenty Years later, Oakland, California and St Louis, Missouri both have higher crime rates than Baghdad.
Twenty Years later, NYC’s crime rate is higher than Beirut, Lebanon.
Twenty Years later, we are the third world.
We’ve gone broke. The government failed. Don’t follow their example. Concern yourself with the terror in your neighborhood and confront it as a man amongst the ashes. Work to rebuild this collapsing state. Or else one day you may find a soldier landing in your back yard, here to fight the War on Terror anew.