Bombs Awry

It’s been two months since the launch of this post-modern war and Americans have done a great job of rallying around the flag, but any moment now, we’re going to have to start shutting down the free lunch.

I know, it’s war, these things take time, there’s an international coalition we have to keep together, but still, there’s surpassing evidence that our military and political leaders have their acts far from together.
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Ground Zero

The first thing you see as you approach Ground Zero is the smoke. You see it hanging between buildings, catching the autumn sun. You wonder if that’s it, if that’s The Smoke, or is it just some of normal exhalation of a busy city. Then The Smell wafts toward you and you know the smoke you see is The Smoke. The Smell has an acrid tang; the odors of crushed stone and scorched metal. You breathe it in and keep walking, The Smoke leading you on. You begin to see The Gray Dust.
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Cipro and Con

Other than that, it’s been a beautiful autumn in northern New England. Days are warm and clear, nights have yet to bring a hard frost to the Champlain Valley. The tomato plants are still producing in abundance, still flowering even. We’ve been eating tomatoes from our garden for over three months. National Guard fighter jets occasionally roar low over town, as they did on September 11th. In truth, fighter jets have roared low over town since we moved here, it just didn’t mean anything until September 11th.

Still, the troublesome world reaches out to touch us. There was an anthrax scare at Burlington International Airport last week. A powder of unknown origin was found in the baggage compartment of an incoming airplane. All luggage was impounded, all passengers were given Cipro tablets as a precaution, police and hazardous materials experts were called in. After a few days of tests, the all clear was given, passengers were called to collect their bags and told to stop with the Cipro.
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Family Ties

The president says nations must either fight terrorists or harbor them. The Bush Doctrine – two camps, no middle ground. Let’s take that idea and run with it. There are two kinds of people in the world, good people and bad people. Leaving the bad people aside for the moment, let’s separate the good people into two camps. There are those who believe we can make the world better by political means and there are those who want to change the world through interpersonal relations.

The first group of people, the people who believe in politics, are in charge. They write down their ideas, get other people to endorse them, run for office and spend our tax dollars. None of us is really happy with the system, we all see how easily it’s corrupted, but we’re hard-pressed to find a better alternative.
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The War We Know

It’s been a month today since terrorists attacked New York and the Pentagon, and now it’s a two-way war, the U.S. is shooting back. The raids so far have been remarkably successful, according to the newspapers. Military targets are being wiped out and very little collateral damage. There were those four workers on contract to the United Nations, hired to clear landmines and wound up being killed by an American bomb. Who says the age of irony is over?

So everything seems to be going well, but who knows for sure? There is a dearth of reliable sources. The Taliban says there have been civilian deaths, but what does that mean? What’s a civilian to the Taliban? A Pashtun male whose beard is sufficiently long? If a thousand Afghan women were killed, would the Taliban notice? Would they bother to count?
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Myths and Legends

It’s been over three weeks now, but I can’t shake this sense of dislocation. My mind now may go for hours attending to other business, but it’s always there, a preoccupation. Sooner or later, I remember and think, “Oh yeah, that’s right.” Then I take a deep breath and go on. In the middle of the afternoon, I realize I haven’t checked the news in a few hours and flip on the radio. The sound of regularly-scheduled programming is a simple pleasure I’ve come to appreciate.

Now, as the rubble is sifted, we can start figuring out what really happened. On Tuesday the 11th, the airwaves were filled with so many incredible tales; it seemed anything could be true. Now, we’re learning much of what was passed around was not fact but instead instant urban myth, or perhaps internet myth.
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No Justice, No Peace

“No justice, no peace!” the protesters shouted, blocking traffic on Constitution Avenue the day it was announced the police officers who beat Rodney King had been acquitted. I was among them.

“No justice, no peace!” The cry went up again for Abner Louima, Amadou Diallo, the people of Vieques, as it should have. “No justice, no peace!” rallied labor and environmental activists together to oppose the World Trade Organization, the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund.
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