Possumblog

Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.

Tuesday, January 28, 2003

From the Bleat--

[...] I’ve been drum-tight all day, skittish and jittery; we are very very close to the point at which certain introductions will be made: crap, meet fan. Fan, crap. I remember last year reading a Drudge headline that said something like PENTAGON: NO IRAQ WAR UNTIL 2003, and that seemed impossibly distant. But here we are.

Here we are.

On 9/11 Gnat was playing with an Elmo phone - the movie I made for that month has her standing in front of the TV, the smoking towers behind her. She’s holding out the phone and punching numbers, a big smile on her face, prerecorded Elmo saying SIX. SEVEN. FOUR. Jasper Dog, having sensed something very bad, is on his back, his paws in the air, and he’s whining. But Gnat knew nothing then. She’ll know something this time. I’ll catch her staring at me as I watch the news. You okay, Daddee? You okay? I smile and lie, because that’s my job.

That phone is still around, but it’s sunk to the bottom of the toy bin. When the bin’s packed tight and you slide it closed, sometimes the weight of the toys presses the keys and makes Elmo talk: SIX. SEVEN. FOUR. Every time that happens it reminds me of 9/11. Weeks and months and maybe even years will pass, but let 9/11 happen again and it will be yesterday, and all the days in between will seem like minutes spent in slumber. [...]

And of course, there is a chorus of voices on the other side of the street--'don't remember, let it go, grow up, violence never solved anything, it's our fault.' Believe as you want, it is your right. But understand that the people who do remember, who refuse to allow injustice a free hand, who have reached some level of intellectual adulthood, who understand that violence, regrettably, sometimes can only be stopped by the use of violence, and who refuse to apologize for wishing to live as free people, are the very ones who protect and guarantee your right to wallow in your delusions.

Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival.--Sir Winston Churchill

posted by Terry at 8:32:00 AM

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