Hard to believe it has been thirteen years since those planes flew into the twin towers.
In the years following the Bush administration threw away the world’s sympathy and launched us into an endless series of wars, much of it having more to do with neoconservative fantasies of reshaping the Middle East in America’s image than with dealing with those who actually caused the attacks.
Today, these thirteen years later, at home we’ve come to be divided even more than we were before, something I’d not thought possible if asked in about it on 9/10.
And in the relentless play of causality even a president who came into office in significant part on the promise to extricate us from the morass looks to be forced into a fight with a truly horrific child birthed out of the whole dirty mess.
Blood poured upon blood.
But, for the moment, my thoughts turn to the victims in the towers those thirteen years ago, and those brave, brave people, mostly firemen and policemen who rushed into the towers to help.
In the worst, sometimes the best does birth.
And we should never forget that.
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