Early Morning Philosophy #2

Whenever I watch a movie that features Arlington National Cemetery, I won't lie, I fight the urge to tear up a bit.

Not simply for all the alabaster graves...though there are SO many of them...but for all the people I know aren't there...including those once thought our enemies. I have seen many war memorials now, and though I am grateful for a new kind of war that doesn't involve lining up on hilltops to fire at each other 'like a good sport,' it grieves me that our non-traditional wars are not really conducive to memorials as we understand them. And the people we tend to fight now would never be able to afford them anyway.

I am sad for all the families in the arid nations of AK's and sand and oil. I've been accused of being unpatriotic for this, but I consider quite the reverse true. If the adage: "With great power comes great responsibility," is true, I believe we, as Americans, have the highest responsibility to be respectful of fallen fighters on all sides.

I am adamantly opposed to violating the dead. When Achilles killed Hector, that was fine, that was his right as a warrior, and it was an honorable battle. But when he towed Hector's bleeding body around Troy's walls, there was an almost ubiquitous dissaproval...even from the gods.

I do not believe anyone to be my enemy. I have wished harm upon individuals, but only in moments of anger, and always because they have threatened or injured those close to me, and usually, much of the ire is born out of my own incompetence at defending my loved ones. I do not hate any group of people.

This is one of the reasons...perhaps the biggest reason, war is a horrifyingly soul-raping, wretched endeavor. I believe there are things worth fighting for. I believe there are things worth dying for. While I am more than a little hesitant to claim there are things worth killing for (because it is hard for me to conceive, let alone justify such a claim), I recognize that sometimes easy choices are simply not given to us, and I do not judge those who fight. Despite my own deontological moral philosophy, I absolutely believe there is honor in being a soldier, and it is totally appropriate to respect and honor THEM for their service.

The dead have no enemies (unless of course, the Zombie Apocalypse arrives, in which case, I'm going to have a LOT of moral paradigms to rethink). An enemy is someone who wants to harm you in some way. I do not believe the dead wish ill of anyone. As such, when someone dies, they cease to be an enemy. I'm not suggesting we suddenly forgive or forget. All claims to objectivity aside, history will always be replete with at least passive judgments. But this does make desecration of the dead a moral sin. The most justly won victory can be completely tainted by such behavior, the most righteous defender brought down to the level of the basest of villains.

But I am not a soldier. I have no enemies. I have never fired a weapon, I have never been fired upon. I have never watched someone close to me die, knowing their killer was still alive and it was within my power to do something about it. It is simply not a position I have ever occupied, and so I cannot, in all fairness, pass firm judgment upon it. I have what I believe, and I believe it to be right, and someone would be hard pressed to convince me of any justification otherwise. But I will not pretentiously flout high standing ideals, safe in the comfort and security afforded me by the very individuals I would be lambasting.

I hope that all those people who were once considered enemies find peace in whatever afterlife they find, should they believe in one, and peace in the nothingness if they believe that instead. I hope their loved ones have a place to go to remember them, to honor their ideals if they are worth honoring them, to honor the individual if he or she is worth it to them, or at least to mourn the tragedy that was their life and death. And I hope that as best as we are able, we respect those who fight for causes not our own and that when the fighting ends, and the issues resolve and the wounds began to heal, we put aside thoughts of 'enemies,' and return to being just people.

Early Morning Philosophy #1

Most people think that optimists--hopeful people, people who choose to focus on the good--turn a blind eye to the realities of the world. That they live in houses made of fuschia glass, incapable of facing truth. I disagree. In my experiences, people of hope are more aware of the world than most, because they look at each moment. They refuse to sweep all negative events into a sweeping, 'Well, what do you expect these days?' generality that the pessimistic and the despairing do; instead, they believe that each victim, each sad tragedy is worth being mourned in and of itself, and not just part of some overarching (and therefore ignorable) whole. They refuse to let themselves become desensitized, and so, feel each sadness fresh each time. It easy to shrug off sadness, easy to act as if it is to be expected, and after all, what could *I* have done about it anyway? It is much harder to refuse to accept that as the rule, to strive instead to make it the exception. To focus on the good is to encourage it...Evil is the greatest, and original troll which thrives off the attention it gets. Optimists don't claim the world is great. I don't even think it's that good. But the potential for good is there, and to trivialize it by considering any such encouragement as juvenile does no favors for anyone. Pessimism is an easy way out because it gives those who do wrong an excuse, a cop out. "How could you have expected me to do the right thing?" they ask, "When the wrong thing was so much easier and practically EXPECTED?" I am willing to accept, though not agree, that optimism is probably foolish. I will never accept that it is weak.

A Philopsychological Analysis: V and Phantom

Today I watched two movies with a few similar themes that got me thinking about a variety of topics. The first was V for Vendetta, the second, the 2007 adaptation of Phantom of the Opera. One of this movies is almost incontestably better than the other, but that's not really the issue here. I noted some correlations between the two titular characters.

I'm using the movies for this case, as opposed to the books and/or original musical for a variety of reasons. One is, as mentioned, I just watched them. Two, I haven't read the original V for Vendetta in ages. Three, while I'm quite aware that the movie barely does justice to almost any aspect of Sir Andrew's music, there's the simple fact that I don't like Sarah Brightman. Not because she is in any way untalented, because she's quite gifted. I just think she's a robot. And by that, I mean, her voice has no soul to me. It doesn't move me at all, I am not in the least sympathetic to Christine, and in fact, kind of want the Phantom to drown her at some point. I am told by those more musically inclined than I am that the actors are singing off-key in some of the major songs. I couldn't tell you. It is my personal opinion that Raoul and Christine are fine singers on their own (one has a Tony and one has been performing opera since she was 4), but that they didn't harmonize particularly well, which hurt their duet performances. In the end, virtually all my issues (especially all the gross inconsistencies (Meg has wet pants, wet pants, wet pants, camera change, DRY PANTS)) are solely the fault of the director, Joel Shumacher (who is also responsible for the violent assault of our childhood known as Batman Forever and Batman and Robin). Admittedly, I blame him for lots of things, including the KT meteor. I don't like him, is what I'm saying.

You can tell I'm going to digress a lot.

Anyway, similarities.

To get the obvious one out of the way for you trolls, there's the whole mask thing, ostensibly to hide a great deformity that works as an allegory to their own inner scarring. They are both verbose, well versed in literature and theatrics, etc.

The deeper, and I feel, more significant similarity is that they are both offered a chance at a real human relationship by the woman they care about; arguably the first and only time this has or will ever happen. And they turn it down. My personal interpretation has always been that, having spent all their lives filled with darkness and hatred, the sudden introduction of something as pure as love overwhelms their twisted minds and brings them to the sad conclusion that they are incapable of returning in kind, as they are so very broken inside. You could make the case that V is simply too dedicated to his cause, but I believe the case for his 'monster' status is pretty well made in the film.

This line of thinking got me into a philopsyhological mindset, with which I found myself analyzing much of Phantom. In the end I focused on the triangle relationship, and the idea of personhood.

There will be a lot of stretching for some of these points, and clearly, much comes down to interpretation. That is, after all, the beauty of art.

The first point is that human beings act inconsistently, and paradoxically, and the characters in the play reflect that. There are numerous moments of conflict, times where warring motivations vie for decision-making significance. This is especially true with Eric (the Phantom), but both Christine and Raoul make good representations as well.

For example, rarely do I question the sincerity of the characters. Sanity, yes, sincerity, no. I believe Eric means it when he says he loves Christine, and I believe he means it when he says he'll kill Raoul if she doesn't stay with him (not exactly something a truly loving person would do).

Speaking of that, let's talk about that sanity thing. The only sane one in this triangle is Raoul and he makes up for it by being rich and spoiled. Christine clearly has some left over neuroses and abandonment issues thanks to her father passing away. As far as I can tell, she honestly believes in the beginning that it is the spirit of her father coaching her, and even after everything that happens in the first half of the show, she still goes to his grave, as if to confirm he is actually in it. When Raoul goes up to the roof with her, she hears the Phantom calling her, and she clearly is not sure if she's actually hearing it or if it's in her mind, because the lines of reality have seemingly become blurred.

Eric, of course, is even worse off. At best, he's a sociopath, devoid of what most of society recognizes as a moral compass (hence, the killing and all). More to our purposes, he has a sexual pathology. That actually doesn't have a lot to do with actual sex. To wit (and how often do we get to use that phrase?), he obviously spends a lot of time fantasizing, mostly about Christine. Note the drawings and paintings of her, all the little miniatures and of course the life size model. This is pretty classic behavior of someone with potentially highly dangerous sexual deviancy. Not that fantasizing is bad, in and of itself, we all do it. It is just that when classifying sexually violent crimes, it has been noted that only sadists and organized, anger excitation/power assertive/anger retaliatory rapists enjoy imagining the crime as much as, if not more than, actually committing it. So the fantasy aspect is considered very important, because offenders escalate up from that. Virtually all sexual crimes start with a deviant fantasy. That doesn't mean all fantasies will lead to deviant behavior (again, a lot more people would be guilty than are) but it is something to keep in mind.

Going up the usual progression, there's peeping, stalking, and finally assault/kidnapping, all of which Eric does at some point.

The danger here is that the world does not conform to our fantasies, and he has not been socialized to handle rejection and disappointment. But wait, you say, he never intended, nor demonstrated any attempt to hurt Christine.

Which leads to my second point. Eric did not see Christine as a person, someone with autonomy and agency. She was an object, a living, moving version of the mannequin he had made of her. She was a figure of his dreams, and when she did not act exactly as he'd pictured, he became violent, manipulative and destructive. This is also pretty standard behavior for a sexual predator.

When he brought her down to his lair, he probably imagined she would wake up, he would play and she would be inspired to sing and that would inspire him and they would exist in some kind of blissful resonance. The problem with making a human your muse is that real muses are remote, untouchable, as Christine had always been to him before. Now she was close, and all of her faults and humanity, manifested in the (not very subtle) action of pulling his mask off, were undeniable. This is one of the first examples of his reactions to non-conforming behavior. I don't really know what he expected to have happen, but he obviously didn't account for her curiosity.

If Eric had truly wanted Christine to come with him, as an autonomous human, he would have come to her more openly. Not like bells-and-whistles-and-hey-by-the-way-I'm-horribly-deformed, but certainly not purposefully inciting her to believe her father had sent him in some mystical way, not using smoke, mirrors and magic to make her question her senses and not hypnotizing her musically. I have sometimes heard people say they dislike the movie version of 'Music of the Night' because near the end, he's more or less groping her, but I don't really understand this reaction. Listen to the lyrics, they're all 'abandon reason' and good sense, 'give in to the darkness' and 'let me do what I want with you.' Between that and her glassy-eyed 'under the influence' look, and I'd say 'Music of the Night' is the essentially a lyrical roofie. Yeah, you heard me, he spiked her ears so he could have his way with her. Of course, I doubt 'his way' would have entailed a sexual relation for quite a while, not out of respect for her, but because I'm not convinced he's capable of such intimacy. I'm sure there's fanfiction to prove me wrong (very very very sure).

Which brings us back to the Viscount. I do not believe that Raoul spends most of the play viewing Christine as a person either. His reasons are more that he's a chauvinist, typical of his time period. When they first meet again, and Christine tries to tell him she can't go out, he bulldozes over her words and insists she go to dinner with him. He does this sort of thing a lot. When Christine says 'Yo, let's escape because someone is trying to kill me' he's like 'Lol, you so crazy, girl.' Honestly, when she's explaining that she was in a dungeon and sharing how conflicted she is because she's terrified but also sympathetic to her captor, he looks at her as if she's explaining how the Saurians of Venout 9 have been communicating to her through her hair curls. To him, she's something to be protected and sheltered. You imagine that in HIS dreams, he is the perfect noble, she the perfect wife, to be set on a mantle piece, looked at and praised. Even 'All I Ask of You' (one of my favoritest songs ever) shows this relationship. All of Raoul's lines are 'Let me take care of you and lead you and tell you what to do'...'Let me do X for/to you.' Now, in his defense, she is frightened and probably needs someone to be there for her, to promise to take care of her and to help her figure everything out. I'm not solely blaming Eric or Raoul for seeing Christine as...well, what she is. An ingénue. For most of the show, she is passive, allowing things to happen to her, rather than causing them to happen. Part of this is, that's her character, some of it is the crazy. At least Raoul seems to seek some kind of involvement on her part. Eric's seduction seems more like 'Just be here and let things happen' as opposed to 'Do this with me.' Splitting hairs, though.

And for a while Christine and Raoul seem happy enough, so I'd like to think that they'd gotten over this. Then we get the after math of 'Masquerade.' Again, Christine is asking Raoul to listen to him and again, he is sure he knows best and she should stop being so bloody hysterical. He's not hearing her and is thus denying her basic personhood; in other words, he doesn't respect her.

The pivotal moment, and another of my favorite songs, comes with 'Point of No Return.' Eric is almost asking Christine to choose him, but he's also doing it according to his script, which he wrote. He expects her to follow the lines he has laid out for her, to just go along with it. Still not recognizing her as a person with agency. However, you can almost see Christine's spine straightening as the song goes on. Maybe she's tired of being pushed around. Maybe she thinks this is the only thing she can do to save the opera house and her friends (considering how that turns out, especially for the chandelier, I find this doubtful). Either way, she has finally come to recognize her own agency and is ready to demonstrate it. You can actually see the moment when Raoul sees it too. He half stands, a suggestion of tear coming to his eye as he realizes she might not actually choose him. She might just choose to go with this dark, exotic stranger, who promises enticing, forbidden joys; a contrast to the moral, socially acceptable (and therefore less exciting) life that he represents. She has a choice, and he might not be it. Yet before the song is done, he sits down again, jaw tightening as if he is coming to terms with the idea, resolving to let her handle it. Notice he doesn't send in the fuzz the moment things aren't going his way. You can bet Eric would not have exerted so much discretion.

When Christine pulls off his mask the second time, it should have been clear to Eric he was not going to be able to control her, but I think by then, he was done with the upstairs world and didn't really care what they thought. You can see the apologies in her eyes and this is one of the many times we see conflicting emotions and motivations. Maybe she thought the display would be good for him, freeing him in some way. Maybe she just wanted people to believe her. He doesn't seem angry with her action, perhaps a little disappointed, but also understanding. His expression says 'You did what you had to do.'

Still, Eric does not extend agency to Christine, dragging her down 'to the dungeon of' his 'black despair,' and shoving a veil on her head. But Christine has found some kind of inner strength now, and she is not jumping (or singing) on his say so anymore. What she is doing is holding him to a standard, speaking to him in plain terms and recognizing his personhood in a way he hasn't recognized hers. She points out that he's had a choice this whole time and he's been making the wrong one. He is not an object to be pitied, a pet to take home and nurse. He's a human being who has caused suffering to others. Then Raoul shows up. I think this is because he views Eric's kidnap of Christine as more than just 'you're taking my property' and more 'you're forcing Christine into this.' Obviously, he wants Christine to come back with him, but I think he was also concerned she was being taken against her will (whatever her and Eric's duet of musical foreplay said).

The Phantom asks Raoul before throwing a noose over his neck 'Why would I make her pay for the sins which are yours?' I find this to be an interesting question. On the surface, he views Raoul as a rival, someone who has gotten in the way of his plans. Still convinced of his fantasy, he probably believes that if not for Raoul, Christine would have acted exactly as he wanted. On the other hand, I wonder if, even unconsciously, he projected onto Raoul faults he saw in himself. He heard Raoul promising to do everything FOR Christine, he heard him in the beginning and probably later on ignoring her pleas. Here, Raoul has everything he doesn't: respect, passable looks, wealth, prestige, and yet he still disrespects Christine. In this way, I think Eric sees him as both rival and mirror and hates him in both capacities.

At this point, things become kind of muddy for me. Christine has made it perfectly clear that she holds Eric in contempt. So when she goes out to him, it could be argued that she is disingenuous, and simply doing it because she wants to save Raoul. For his part, I think Raoul is reaffirmed of his respect for Christine's personhood when he realizes she has to save him. Was Christine deceiving Eric by seeming to accept his offer? I don't think so, because I think he would have picked up on it. Certainly, he expected that to be her reason.

I find the 'You deceived me. I gave you my mind blindly' line to be important because it is another big step for Christine. Not only does she recognize she is in control of her own life but also that she has to take responsibility for her actions. She allowed Eric to manipulate her, she allowed him to control her. By proxy, she allowed Raoul to overrule her by never being assertive. Realizing that Eric was not solely at fault, that she too had created this situation, I think she decided that staying with him was a consequence thereof. And I think that while she honestly loved Raoul, she also sincerely intended to stay with Eric. Maybe because she felt he needed her more, maybe inside she was really frightened. I don't know, but in any case, she was ready to stand by that decision.

But Eric lets them go. Feeling human affection for the first time, something in his mind must have snapped, the curtain must have finally gone up (see what I did there?), leaving him no more excuses. He had said earlier 'the world showed no compassion to me,' as if that justified all of his wrongdoings, but now he had to face them in the eyes of someone who truly cared for him, who didn't judge him for his deformity. It was all too much. Whatever shame he felt before was increased exponentially now. So he demands they leave him to be alone with his misery. He has finally accepted Christine as her own person and realized that he can't force her. And he is pained he tried.

I've sometimes wondered why Christine comes to give him the ring. I always thought it was a token of her care. After all, Raoul had given it to her, she could easily have kept it. But she gives it to Eric, as if to say 'Even though I can't be with you, I choose to leave this with you of my own volition.'

You can see Raoul leaning on her and his development is never made more obvious than the switching of the lyrics. Now it is he who says 'Say the word and I will follow you.'

I think there is probably no greater image of self-hatred than the shattering of mirrors. Both Eric and V do it after being forced to see themselves through the eyes of the ones they love. It is a visceral and I think, truly heartbreaking attempt at trying to destroy oneself.

All of these points can be argued, and there were a lot of side paths that I didn't go into. But I hope my points were clear enough and that maybe you'll think about some of these things the next time you pop in the soundtrack or turn on the movie. You can wonder (although if you do, I'd be concerned) why Christine chooses Raoul over Eric (I'm gunna go with the whole 'murder' thing). In the end, I don't think it matters as much as the fact that she was given the choice and that she chose to make it.

Miss So-And-So

Miss So-And-So wants you to think that she's clever and she's witty and smart and most of all Interesting

but she's not.

You can tell she's not as she is trying oh so very hard to convince you she is

Because of course anyone who is *truly* interesting would never concern herself with what others thought of her

as she would be far too busy contemplating quantum mechanics or whether dolphins have names for each other in their own

secret

language

Miss So-And-So is burdened by both.

Have you ever wondered if there was a quantifiable way to measure someone's interest in a subject? Such as a not-so-interesting girl?

Miss So-And-So then wonders what her secret dolphin name would be.

Miss So-And-So wishes she were in a straight jacket or locked in a dungeon or

at least

On some very difficult to pronounce medication which would validate her extemporaneous forays into the whimsical and the dare-I-say profound.

But alas

The most judicious explanation to account for her frequent lapses--too far into cerebral terraces of abstracts and speculation to be considered responsible, yet too far from the truly inspired to be considered sage, is that perhaps today

like most days

Miss So-and-So has simply had too much caffeine.

Creativity Incubation

Sometimes, I stop to think how cool my parents are. Sure, imperfect, but still pretty great.

One of the best things about my mom, a constant throughout my life, is that no matter how silly, long-winded or convoluted my writing is, she's always willing to hear me read it aloud. I can ramble about anything and nothing nigh on incessantly (and do) and she'll listen patiently, offering insights and new perspectives, and mostly just letting me bounce ideas off her.

Having observeed other families, I've realized some of the consequences of this environment.

One is that I'm not ashamed of my creativity. This sounds odd on the face of it; don't most parents want to encourage their children's passions? The negative answer is two-fold.

The "you can be anything you want to be" is a uniquely Western notion, and one that is slowly losing popularity as people become more aware of the limitations set by race, class, gender and geographical location. Even then, many parents push their children, understandably, to more "practical endeavors." There is simply little security in creative endeavors.

The second, and probably more damaging issue is when parents make the child insecure about WHAT they produce. This is what I see more often.

I have a friend who uses a nomme de plum for everything he writes because he is afraid his parents will read it and interrogate him about it. For whatever reason, they simply do not understand his views and the ways he chooses to express himself.

At best, this makes the individual uncomfortable. At worst, it can make him or her ashamed, which can be very destructive. Certainly, there are probably fantasies, lines of thinking, etc that should be encouraged. But such situations will be rare, and more often, the categorical insecurity that forces an individual to hide his or her own creations from the people who should be encouraging, and maybe even guiding to a point can't end well for anyone. If nothing else, it stifles creativity and can make the individual give up his/her passion altogether.

Considering how many other factors work against artistic types (usually logistical problems), adding more to the burden is unfortunate.

This may seem trivial, but it's only a short stagger between being embarassed by your creation and being embarassed by yourself. We put pieces of ourselves in everything we generate, and having it overlooked, shredded or in other ways abused can truly affect us personally.

I think I had more to say but I can't remember it now. I guess I'm just glad that I've always felt comfortable sharing my writing or "art" with my parents and even if they didn't care for the subject matter, they were always willing to listen.

Maybe I will ask my mom what she thinks.

Today

This is going to sound silly.

I found myself wondering what the appropriate memorial greeting was. After all, 'Happy September 11th' sounds like a twisted joke. What are we supposed to do? How are we suppose to commune with others, let them know we share their suffering, to come closer as a community?

The difference is not so obvious. After all, we say 'Happy Memorial Day' and 'Happy Veterans Day' and they involve remembering tragedies. And really, when you think about it, virtually all holidays, whatever your religious or cultural preference or reality probably involves death somewhere. Because that's what holidays are for. It's a national grieving period, and thusly, like all proper wakes, a celebration of life, renewal, improvement. Two sides of the same confetti coin.

But I don't think anyone will say 'Happy September 11th' today.

Maybe someday, years from now, when all those who will remember it are gone and card companies need a boost and the government needs a distraction from yet another PR disaster...they will institute a national day of recognition. They'll have to come up with a catchy name for it. Maybe then, they will say 'Happy...'.

But not today.

Part of that, I think, is because of the two sides idea. All of our holidays revolve around both death, and live. Even Christmas. The birth of the Savior is made all the more meaningful with the knowledge of His eventual sacrifice. The opposite side is Easter. The Crucifixion gives more awe and significance to the Resurrection. Thanksgiving, well...that's obvious. So is Columbus day.

Death and renewal. Mourning and celebrating. Maybe they're societally necessary. But this duality is why we will not say 'Happy September 11th,' why instead, there will be people all over the country who are quieter than usual. Even in this early gray hours, I imagine the air itself will seem heavier, faces will be grimmer. Everyone will have thoughts unspoken. And we won't share them. Despite it being a very national experience, our grief will be our own, our personal feelings.

Certainly there will be...loud individuals, those who have decided that THEY get to determine what today should mean. Maybe they'll burn another people's holy book, maybe they'll have a parade or protest and maybe they'll just talk about it on TV while everyone nods as if something profound is happening.

But it won't be the same. And I will tell you why.

Even after nine years, we STILL don't know how to DEAL with this yet. We haven't moved on. Holidays, HOLY DAYS...death and renewal. Loss and rejuvenation. It's that second part that trips us up. The suffering is still fresh in our collective consciousness because to this day, it seems. So. POINTLESS.

We haven't gained anything from it, even our brief rally-round-the-flag feeling was exploited to unfortunate ends that have done little to improve our lives or the lives of others (though certainly, some good has been wrought). We haven't been renewed yet, we have nothing to celebrate. Hell, we're bickering over a community's desire to exercise their Constitutional right, demonstrating how confused and scared and hurt we still are. There's been little healing that I can see.

We remember Veterans on Veteran's Day, Memorial Day, D-Day, V-Day...in order to thank them for helping us WIN. Their sacrifice would seem in vain if they'd done otherwise. Without victory, we couldn't even HAVE such celebrations.

So far, I've seen no such victory to give meaning and sense to the countless who died...less than five hours from now, nine years ago. And all the hurt that came of it. I don't wish to demean or besmirch them in any way, and I think it is GOOD that we remember them, that we still mourn them even as we strive to move past our grief and work towards a more positive future. One in which, I hope, terrorism finds no foothold and innocent civilians aren't slaughtered in the name of ideas that can't be fought, only died for.

This is why no one will say 'Happy September 11th.' There's nothing happy about it. Maybe someday there will be, some good that rises from the ashes of the Trade Centers. Someday we will say 'That was terrible, but look how...'

But not today.

Today, our heads will hang a little lower, we will sigh a few more times than usual. We will REMEMBER and we will mourn. We may not even be sure what we're mourning. The loss of a certain innocence, the beginning of a new time of fear and violence, the death of thousands of civilians and subsequently thousands of soldiers and even more civilians in countries we don't even correctly pronounce the name of half the time. We will remember the shock, the loss for words as somewhere in our heads, we screamed, "This cannot be happening."

Maybe we will remember the moment we realized things were never going to be totally the same again. Something changed. It's chimeric, and we may never be able to quantify it, but the change is there.

Maybe...if we're feeling cynical...we'll remember the individuals, the groups that then and now try to use our grief as a platform for their own ends, confused, misguided or just plain wrong though they may be. But I don't think we'll dwell on them for long.

We see the consequences of this day everywhere. It is now woven into our national fabric.

Today, we just remember THIS day. Not what came after. Not what could have been, though certainly that is laced into the grief. Just today.

And even though it will have different meaning for all of us, as separate as the geographical divides of this huge, great nation, somewhere, I hope some small part of us takes comfort in the knowledge that on some level, we are all remembering today together.

Even though we won't say it.

Heroes

There's one thing all tales of heroes, all epic legends have in common.

The life of the hero is never easy.

The short, simple answer is because peace, happiness and tranquility is just plain boring without the drama of danger and suspense.

In other words, it's what sells.

Personally, I've never been a fan of the pat answers.

Perhaps, it is because OUR lives are not easy and so those who live extroadinary lives must have extroadinary problems.



Perhaps, as in so many other ways, like in everything else, the hero makes a sacrifice for us. They remind us that somewhere, someone's life sucks more than our own.

It is not enough, apparently, to inspire hope, courage, determination.
We also require their suffering.

I wonder what other creatures deman so much.