It's Time to Let Go of the Past

I understand that President Bush's Patriot Act gives the government free reign to come knocking at my door if they find this blog not to their liking. You know what? I don't care. I'll happily pull up the Bill of Rights, as an American, and throw free speech in their face. Today is September 11th and already, I have gotten pissed off at all the victim pandering and "never forgets!" online that it's given me a toothache from the very saccharine insincerity of it all.

Let's back up, shall we? Yes, I remember where I was when it all happened. Most people, unless they have neurological trauma, remember big events like that. I was in my fourth year at college, and had just paid another $80-something to re-take the PRAXIS test (math section only)  for state teacher certification and it was a beautiful day. One of my off days where I had no classes and was going to be a bum and watch TV all day. So when I got back to my room and turned on my TV I saw the towers, and the second plane hit, I was in awe. It was surreal, but I didn't feel sad. I sent an email to my dear friend in the city to make sure he was okay, but I knew he wouldn't be anywhere near there; he lived in Queens. So I watched the news with fascination. By day two it got old. Real old. Nothing was on TV but footage, not even late night TV. At this point apathy was turning into anger.

I wasn't angry at the people who had done the deed; they had an agenda. People have agendas. No, I was mad at the people who dwelled on it. Who mooed an cried and dragged the who thing out for 5 days of broadcast over all the channels on cable. Signs professing "GOD BLESS AMERICA" in bold letters, cause ribbons (why do we have ribbons for every damn thing now?)  sprouted on breast and backpack. Flags were constantly flown at half-mast. Cheesy artwork started popping up, and the conspiracy theorists found the face of the devil in the smoke of the fires and hidden messages in, of all things, the webdings font. It all seemed ludicrous.

Now fast-forward to today. I wake up, and my first though isn't "it's 9/11, never forget" it's "ooh, it's the 11th, my copy of Snow White should have shipped today! Why isn't there a fucking shipping email?" And I log into Facebook and there is all the useless glurge and it just makes me mad. Really? Did you know anyone that died? Or does it make you feel better to jump on a bandwagon of bandaid sympathy? Who really thinks about this day outside of today? As Americans, we sure do like our bandwagon causes. If there was a "like" button to go back in time to stop 9/11, most of my friend's list would be all over that shit. It's all so meaningless. Never forgetting, praying, lighting candles, what good is it all? The only thing it does is it makes you feel good. You know what I never forget? How Americans turned to hate in a time of tragedy and misdirected that hate toward an entire ethnicity when the attacks were done by a small extremist sect. Americans sure do love their hate.

As people throw colorful macros of the towers enrobed in flags and proclaim "NEVER FORGET!" I can't help but wonder if the families of those who died do want to forget. If they want to move on and just be left alone, but they're endlessly dragged to one more dedication, one more memorial, one more visit from the governor, the President. And I ask, do you consider that, with your flag-waving and your ribbon-wearing? I'd imagine having a building fall on your brother/sister/husband/wife/other significant person would be some significant mental trauma. I know I'd want to escape it all and remember and mourn privately.