Admitting a mistake at war costs votes and invites a malicious downpour of venom from the military industrial complex and the politicians they control. So, the war on terror continues, a human tragedy that extends its poisons deep into culture.

Let’s take a look back.

Reference: Peace Activists, Peace Freaks

September 11th, 2001, Early Morning, Before The War On Terror

My employer’s offices were on John Street in lower Manhattan, easy walking from the World Trade Center, so easy in fact that the friend I shared an office with and I felt the shake when the first airliner smashed into the north tower. Standing together near Broadway when the news remained confused, we ran like crazy when the second plane exploded the south tower in front of us.

Image via Wikipedia

I started that morning, preparing to take a new hire uptown for an interview a company I was hoping to sign to a very big contract, but by midday, I was walking along with thousands of others across the Queensboro Bridge. Like refugees exiting a war torn province. All the subways had been shut down, one of the decades first acts of preposterous overkill, and fighter jets were screeching overhead, following the course of the East River. 

Downtown, a vast cloud of brown-black smoke filled the skyline. It was unbelievable.

As a teenager, I sat in French class in shock as the public address system relayed a radio broadcast: “Our beloved President John F. Kennedy is dead.” Now this, it dawned on me over the next few days that, in my life, I’d experienced to events that changed America fundamentally and for good. 

Only the second one was irredeemably bad. At least we learned something about ourselves as a nation with Kennedy’s death. The war on terror that followed September 11th has been nearly a top to bottom disaster that has left our economy and culture in shambles.

Birth of The War on Terror

Not enough people asked how sixteen men, trained and managed by medieval leaders who lived in caves, got through metal detectors with weapons in four separate places, not one of them stopped, and almost no one asked how the New York Times had most of their names and bios available for a huge, advertising magnet of an article on Sunday soon after. If all this information was known to someone, who was it? Who fed the Times?

President Bush was treated to an heroic front page photograph of himself mounting the ruins at Ground Zero and promising revenge. This presaged an equally heroic image, front and center in the Times, when the Republican hood ornament we’d made president donned flight gear to declare “Mission Accomplished” in a victory over Saddam Hussein’s army in Iraq. 

Image by Marion Doss via Flickr

By now, peace activists were marching, but filling up the streets of Manhattan wasn’t enough.

The war was neither won nor over. It still isn’t. We reelected the hood ornament, anyway.

Losing the War on Terror

It’s interesting that the war on terror showed us so many new ways to lose a war. The most painful lesson was that winning at such enormous costs may be so awful, it’s really a loss.

But who lost and how?

I’m tempted to say the American people did, and certainly, we lost a lot and not just money and men. But the Iraqi’s we rushed in to liberate under false pretenses lost far more, relatively, than we did. 

Reliable estimates are that 125,000 Iraqi civilians (that is women, children, the handicapped and elderly, none of whom were fighting anyone) were killed as the result of military action. Many more died from losses of food, health care and clean water. Americans, supported by the media, tend to consider only their own losses, but simple decency requires that responsibility go deeper than that.

As Americans, we’ve lost suffered over 8,300 deaths of uniformed personnel and “contractors,” fighters we used to more honestly call “mercenaries.” Wounded personnel in much higher numbers will need our support for decades.

As for the cost of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan alone, the costs incurred so far, according to the “Costs of War” project are $3.7 trillion dollars, including huge interest payments because both were financed by loans. Remember that number, the next time the subject of the federal deficit comes up.

It gets worse. Through 2017, assuming current trends continue, these wars are reliably estimated to cost $6.5 trillion. 

And worse. No one has yet collected enough data to give us comprehensive numbers for such war related expenses as astronomical increases in fuel prices, increased municipal security controls and the cost of the Dept. of Homeland Security, created by George W. Bush in the aftermath of of September 11th.

Image by Mike Licht, NotionsCapital.com via Flickr

The Permanent Results of Losing the War on Terror

On a bright, blue-skied morning in Manhattan, then later in the fields of Pennsylvania and at the Pentagon, a cataclysm started that changed us forever. It’s hard to imagine a single benefit, except for those who profit from war and others eager to limit personal freedoms. 

Some enduring effects may never leave us.

• Our economy is in a shambles, and much of it can be attributed to the cost of wars that got us nowhere. Imagine is only half that money had been invested in infrastructure, education or research. We’d have millions more working, a more competitive workforce and, maybe, radical new discoveries in medicine.
• Relative to the rest of the economically advanced nations of the world, our educational results continue to sink. We can’t afford new or upgrade schools, and we can’t pay teachers nearly enough money to get their jobs done.
• “We can’t afford” had become a built in political excuse for refusing to do anything put more war. The list includes health-care, roads, education, research and the arts. We’ve sacrificed excellence in everything else in our surrender to the war machine.
• Distrust of government is at an all time high. After Bush and his signature wars on terror, nobody believes what comes out of Washington anymore and Obama has only made it worse from being far to weak to come near his promises. It’s tempting to blame voters for their own choices, but that’s only half true. Are we being given real choices or ones so strictly controlled that real change is impossible, resulting in a volatile electorate?
• Cultural unity was under attack by conservatives like Rush Limbaugh, and the divide and conquer strategies have accelerated, we are left with a choice between gridlock forever and capitulation to the rancorous Tea Party conservatives bent on undermining a social fabric they don’t like. Since the war machine rides side saddle on the conservatives, the ultimate results are predictable.

More reading: Peace Activists, Peace Freaks      Universal Soldiers      Hippie Symbols and Peace Signs

     Most of what I found was just… garbage.  People using cheesy patriotic songs with the same 15 pictures Cnn showed all day.

     Here is one Youtube clip that portrays the events of September 11th is a less ridiculous manner.  Hopefully it helps you to remember the day as it was, not the way our media propoganda machine tells you it was.

     And a song that, as a dad…. made me cry.

Everyone remembers where they were and what they did on this day that changed the personality of a nation. In my own way of remembering, I wanted to set up a place where we can share our memories and preserve them so that we will never forget.

Below are some example accounts. Continue the thread and send to your family and friends. Reply with: your name / city and state / ONE sentence about where you were when you experienced or heard about the attacks / ONE sentence about what the events of 9/11 taught you…

Name: Whitney G. (Baltimore, MD)

I was: At home; I had just dropped my son off from school and heard it on the radio.

This day taught me: How much I love my family and how much I couldn’t stand to be without them.

Name: Collins T. (Camp Springs, MD)

I was: At the barbershop getting a hair cut

This day taught me:  Despite our differences we are all one nation.

Name: Marcus T. (Washington, DC)

I was: At school and our teachers wouldn’t talk to us about it; I didn’t know anything until my mom picked me up.

This day taught me: Tomorrow is never promised.

Name: Chelsea R. (Washington, DC)

I was: Just getting to work and I remember feeling so lazy that morning.

This day taught me: to hold on to the things that matter I was so scared and to all of the families of those who passed, God Bless.

Name:  Breanna Windsor. (Milford, CT)

I was: In school; my teacher turned on the news and the whole class watched in shock.

This day taught me: Rest in paradise to all the brave firefighters who risked their lives to save others.

The memories of the shock of seeing the buildings fall, or seeing panic in the streets of DC, and seeing the general confusion that was created are all similar.

I remember one coworker, an immigrant from Cypress, kept a low profile that day, not wanting to draw attention to himself.  Another coworker, an ex-veteran, declared that we were at war.

The TV showed people in the Palestine celebrating.  We had done nothing to them, other than support Israel’s right to exist (something they oppose).  Seeing their jubilation made me want to go to war with them.  Of course that feeling faded.

I remember that night talking to my new wife about what I would do if the draft was reinstated.  I now realize that I was too old for them, they want 18 year olds, not 28 year olds.  At the time, I thought I’d be best to go Air Force, where I’d hopefully be far away from any battles.

I remember the road rage I started to see a few days later, as people struggled to come to grips with what was going on.

I remember cheering on the morning I heard that we were bombing Afganistan, taking the fight to Bin Laden and the Taliban.

Most importantly, I remember hearing almost 10 years later that we got Bin Laden, good news indeed.  I may not agree with Obama, but I cheer that he green-lighted the mission.

Memories playing,

spirits swaying,

it was not to be believed,

that a horror like this

could ever be conceived,

a terrorist attack with cosmic insanity,

as the only common frame of reference,

thoughts and feelings touch the heart,

lives being held together,

but even in a gentle breeze,

it could all come apart,

husbands, wives, sons, daughters,

corralled by madmen in those planes,

like hogs waiting for the slaughter,

no one was warned,

it was like a darkness before a storm,

death certificates produced,

with no autopsy performed,

bodies drifted, sanity lifted,

feelings sifted,

and how was the manner of death listed?

My teacher answered the door and as “scheduled,” the classroom began to roar with side conversations throughout. After a while, my teacher closed the door and stood at the front of the class-beat faced red. She quiet said, “I need all of you to close your books and stay silent…please.” ‘Please.’ The sound of the word leaving her lips quivered. We listened and watched as she rolled a small television set we had in the back closet to the front of the room. She turned it on and flicked a couple channels. When she backed away from the screen, we all listened and waited as the view on the television processed through our eyes.

Two gray buildings, one with smoke protruding from its upper half and the other resting yet now-waiting. My teacher clasped her hands to her cheecks and a flow of tears fell from her eyes as she blinked. All of us students, watched with confusion yet with a tint of sadness. News headlines were popping on the bottom of the screen as someone was speaking about what had just taken place.I kept thinking what happened. Was it a fire? Listening to the news broadcast mentioned a plane and putting the pieces together was quite horrific. My teacher began to sob. As we watched, she told my friend, Anthony, to hop onto one of the computers in the back of the room and to go online. As he did what he was told we continued to watch the terrifying sight. Then I can remember hearing a small buzz through the loudspeaker above the blackboard. The principal spoke slowly and carefully. She led us into prayer on the loud speaker and said a few words about what was going on and had insisted that school buses were on their way and for us to be ready to depart. My teacher turned off the television, eyes filled with tears. Anthony spoke out loud mentioning that a plane had flew into one of the buildings. My teacher regained stability and nodded. She told us to get on our things and not too long after, we were all sent home.

Once I got home, my family went over to my aunt’s house only to find now that the second building had been hit as well. Standing there in awe, the look on their faces were with fear, confusion, and great sadness. I had not known what exactly was going on or knew too much about terrorism. I knew it existed, but my intelligence at the time insisted otherwise. Before I knew it, I was hearing about how the buildings had collapsed and that New York was completely covered in debris. Then later hearing about the incident being a terrorist attack only meant that things were only going to get worse. That sunny, beautiful day, had become a dark, horrible nightmare.

At this time, now 21 years old, I can understand much more about 9/11. The lives lost, families broken, and the permanent scars upon our country and national pride. Little did I know that such a day was to occur before going into school that morning. Now I pray for those families that had to deal with a personal loss. The children who lost a parent, parent who lost a child. It has taught us all to stay United and reminded us of why our nation is called the UNITED States of America. To those families with a personal lost through that act of terrorism as well as the leading war afterwards, you are not alone and you have all of my prayers.

–We will always remember and never forget 9/11/2001. God Bless–

Image via Wikipedia

It will be ten years since the super power known as the United States of America was brought to its knees by the acts of less than 20 hijackers of various backgrounds. It will be ten years since families and friends lost their loved ones. It will be ten years since the rest of the United States watched in horror as the buildings fell and once again the news outlets will turn their cameras onto those still in mourning in New York City at the 9/11 Memorial Site where the World Trade Center once stood. The families of the 300 firefighters that died in the rescue efforts after the planes hit have been asked to attend the ceremony to honor and remember remembers those that perished.
This is not news. Pretty much since the attack the media has been talking about the memorial site, and where the country will be in ten years. Speculating whether or not we will be even more of a world power or is we will become some sort of Mad Max-like dystopia. Well, here we are and despite all of the “reflection” and unity and togetherness that was brought by that fragile timeframe we are no closer as a people and in fact probably more segregated than ever. Before I get on a political gripe session, this blog is not so much about the attacks and how our government has deteriorated as a result as much as it is about the people in charge of memorializing the event.

Only families of those firefighters have been asked to the ceremony. Notoriously absent from the invitation list; the first responders. The people who ran into chaos to sift through rubble and try to pull people from the concrete and embers were not invited to the 9/11 Memorial on the tenth anniversary. Depressingly, this is just another slight to these volunteers in the years since the attack. These are the people who against all common sense put their own lives in danger, who as a result have no received aid that was designated for 9/11 volunteers, and who consequently now have health problems because of the conditions and substances that they were selflessly digging through. As a result of their efforts some of these volunteers have been stricken with liver failure, kidney failure, respiratory diseases, cancer, and in at least one reported case; Lupus. Yet still they are being kept away from the memorial on 9/11.

In a country that seems to be full of misplaced hero worship, why can’t a little go their way? We put undeserving people on pedestals every day. They get our adoration, attention, love, and support yet haven’t done a tangible thing to deserve it but when people come along that do actually deserve it they are swept under the rug. I know some of you may be wondering why I am making such a big deal out of this. “They were just doing their jobs, they signed up for that. They did their job and they got recognized for it.” Those people are correct. The first responders were just doing their jobs. There is nothing extraordinary about the fact that they were carrying out the responsibility that they signed up to do. What is special and worth mentioning is how quickly they jumped into action. While the majority of us were still in a state of fear and infantile confusion, these were people jumping in to do the hard parts that none of us really wanted to or were even physically able to do.

Do these guys deserve a trophy? In my opinion, no they do not. They were doing their jobs and they did them well and I thank them for that. I couldn’t do it and I would never want to. My mind cannot understand the notion of such brutality and I know for a fact that I would probably have a psychological breakdown after seeing a tenth of what those volunteers saw. But again, not to belabor the point, they chose to volunteer for that job and therefore I don’t feel they should get any special treatment, just some damn gratitude and some help with the medical expenses. I think it’s the only decent thing to do. In fact, in December, Congress passed the Zagroda Act which set aside 4.2 Billion dollars for the medical expenses of responders to the attacks on the World Trade Center.

Miserably, many first responders say they haven’t received any of that money and they probably won’t. As of this past July, the World Trade Center Health Program ruled that first responders would not receive compensation for cancer treatment as there was no discernible link between cancer and being exposed at ground zero to the substances in the air and ground. A vast majority of them just “happened” to come down with crippling illness that couldn’t have anything to do with their time at ground zero with almost no safety precautions available. They have a right to be angry and to speak out and to make people aware of this.

For this reason, they are being black-balled from the 9/11 memorial. I think you would have to be crazy to think it wasn’t about keeping them off camera. The 9/11 memorial is supposed to be about remembering lives lost and thinking about what the soldiers are fighting for and how quickly New York bounced back. It will be hard to think about how great this country is with scads of volunteers in wheelchairs and oxygen masks that are being ignored while they suffer for the sake of probably funneling the money elsewhere. How disgusting are people going to get before the universe decides it’s had enough and just blinks us out of existence? Do I believe that the first responders deserve a big parade and trading cards? No, I do not. But they definitely deserve some common decency, respect, and gratitude from the city they serve and I also think it is absolutely repulsive that instead of helping them out New York goes the opposite way and ignores that they exist. We wonder why people hate us. We say to ourselves, “those countries just hate our freedom.” Maybe, the other countries see the U.S. as it refuses to see itself. We hide behind flags and religion and tragedies to cover our greed and ignorance of anyone else. When we do help out overseas it’s almost in the face of our starving and poor that sit in the subway systems of our country.

It’s like telling a lazy fat kid to get off the couch and do something. Over and over, you yell at him until one day you watch as he begins to stand. You are so excited. He needs a little help so you offer him your hand. He takes it and steps on your foot and breaks it as he gets to his feet. You are angry but at least he is moving in the right direction. Anything for the cause! Just as long as he gets moving. You watch as he takes steps and builds up momentum. He trips over some stuff and breaks a lamp but it’s okay. He is on his way and once he gets going he will be able to come back and pay for anything he broke, as a thank you for believing in him. Then, you bewilderedly watch as he throws your cat through the living room window, kicks the door down and belligerently sets the lawn on fire. This country prides itself on taking so many steps in the right direction but the collateral damage overshadows the benefits with anything from light shade to pitch black darkness.