I say the words, but I say them with meaning: Nine Eleven

[wheelieterp]

I want to spend the day in quiet reflection, honoring those who were lost and those who stepped up and showed themselves to be heroes.

I want to thrive righteously in my anger at those who attacked innocents.

I want this date to be a symbol; a marker of a time when tragedy taught a lesson that led to growth for our people.

But that is not to be. Instead, we have a leader who uses the words Nine Eleven to rationalize his own terrorism, to justify gross miscarriages of justice; a leader who says the words Nine Eleven so often, they have lost all power they could have had. ANY words repeated over and over become nothing more than a collection of phonemes; no longer communicating anything but the passage of air over vocal chords shaped by lips and tongue. He has taken what could have been a powerful rallying symbol in our culture and turned it into a tacky, disposable gewgaw of language. He has associated himself in such a negative way with the awful events of that fateful day, that it is difficult as a progressive to admit to a bit of sadness today, as if by mourning this, I am joining his camp in some small yet important way.

I am not.

And I am sad.

Rest well, lost ones.