Achtung Bubba
Refugee
If I'm right, this will be my 1,500th post to the forum. That isn't an incredible milestone, especially when one notices that some of the other charter members -- those that don't change their name every three weeks -- have about twice as many posts.
But when I consider how busy I've been since this forum started, I think it's an achievement that I've been able to stick around, to ease off when I had to and jump back in with out losing too many steps.
Thus, I commemorating this post, and I am dedicating it, much the way I dedicated my 1000th post so long ago.
I have considered dedicating this post to U2 itself, the band whose music helped me get survive my senior year of high school, whose music got me moving nearly every morning during college, and whose music has helped us cope during this time of war -- if even in some small way. But I will not.
I have considered dedicating it to my girlfriend, the love of my life, who is currently some 800 miles away from me. I love her and miss her more than I will ever express here, but I will not dedicate this to her, either.
As meaningless as the gesture must be, I am dedicating this post to the six thousand who lost their lives on September 11th, the six thousand casualties of this war between freedom and terror, between democracies and despots.
The number still astounds me. I've posted to this forum 1500 times in the last year and a half. I would have to dedicate each post -- each thoughtful observation, bit of humor, random thought, and note of criticism -- to four human lives that were lost in a single day because of the deliberate efforts of men who hate us. Airline pilots and stewardesses, passengers on the planes; office workers, janitors in the World Trade Center and the Pentagon; rescue workers, volunteers who came to the towers to help; all dead.
Jesus Christ commanded us to love our neighbors -- our friends and even our enemies. These people were nobody's enemies. Even if I couldn't bring myself to love every one of them, I can't bring myself to such hatred as to want to kill them, and to do so in such a brutal manner, and to do so at the expense of my own life -- and it simply dumbfounds me that an entire organization was able to bring themselves to do this. They accomplished their goals, and these six thousand are dead.
So, I dedicate this to the memory of those who are gone, and ask all of you who are still here, especially you Americans who have lost so many kinsmen, to honor their memory:
Never forget September 11th. Never forget the lives lost. Accept nothing less than the eradication of the terrorist organizations that did this and the regimes that encouraged them. Never forget that we were targeted because we are free; that our foreign policy is not a record of shame or indictment; that from Kuwait to Somalia to Yugoslavia to even humanitarian aid in Afghanistan, we have risked our lives to help the groups that either allowed this to happen or suggest that we deserve what we got. Remember when we make mistakes, we are called evil, and when we do nothing, we are "uncaring" And when we help, we are "imperialists". We are hated regardless of what we do, because we are hated for who are: Americans, free men and women. Never forget that freedom was also attacked that morning. And never forget that, as long as there is the light of freedom, there will be those who are willing to die to extinguish the flame.
Don't allow yourself to grieve so much for the dead that you are of no use to the living. To those that are stuck in a moment you can't get out of, get yourself together. The longer your existence is in ruins, the more complete the victory of the terrorists, and the less able you are to help others, to stay informed, and to stand with our nation in its decision to respond.
Myself, I just returned from the local comedy club, having watched the greatest comedian of our time, Lewis Black. The evening of September 11th, I wept uncontrollably. Tonight, I laughed just as hard -- especially because of a joke involving N*Sync, Aerosmith, and two donkeys having sex, but that's neither here nor there. I laughed and laughed, and it felt good.
This Wednesday, I'll be making the long drive to Notre Dame to see our boys. After I wept that Tuesday night, I forced myself to listen to some of U2's most inflammatory songs: "Sunday Bloody Sunday", "Wake Up Dead Man", "Peace On Earth". That was very theraputic, and I hope the concert will be more uplifting as 10,000 other fans join and make a joyful noise. As Bono said in the Psalms introduction, the smoke goes upwards.
And next weekend, I hope to be at my old school, holding the love of my life, watching my football team from inside the stadium -- for the first time this year. My passion for Auburn football runs deep, deeper than my connections for U2 and Star Wars, as I've been going to games since I was two years old. Getting back to roots that deep will most certainly help.
Whatever it is that moves you -- what gets your blood, adrenaline, and passions flowing -- do it. Listen to your favorite U2 album, and watch your favorite movie. Go see a comedian or a huge sporting event. Elevate your soul.
DO SOMETHING. Give blood, give money, give your time. Just go out of your way to be nice to people, to meet others' needs, to make another human being's day just a little brighter.
Since the September Massacre, I've been moved to give blood. I was turned away that day at the makeshift blood bank on campus; there were simply too many donors. I drove by the central blood bank and was told to call and make an appointment. I then left phone messages and emails in an effort to set up a time to donate. Once that appointment was made and the day came, I was turned away because of an irregular pulse, doubtless the result of a combination of jitters and caffiene. I had to go by the doctor's office to have my pulse checked out and get a doctor's note. And, just today, I have made a second appointment to give blood this Monday.
Trying to help may be inconvenient and frustrating; you may have to offer to help several times before your offer is heard. You may have to make sacrifices to help. But in these times, sacrifices will be necessary; your help will be needed.
Finally, pray. I do not think that we earned this attack. I refuse to stand with Falwell and suggest a lax morality prompted this; and I refuse to agree with Michale Moore and suggest that our foreign policy led to this. This is not a sign we should repent of anything, but it is a reminder that life is fleeting, that the most important things in our lives are our loved ones and our relationships with God. So, I suggest we all look to the Creator for comfort and strength, that we become closer to God while we still have the chance.
Everything else? Leave it behind.
These things I write, and this post I dedicate, for the memory of those we lost on September 11, 2001.
------------------
- Achtung Bubba
But when I consider how busy I've been since this forum started, I think it's an achievement that I've been able to stick around, to ease off when I had to and jump back in with out losing too many steps.
Thus, I commemorating this post, and I am dedicating it, much the way I dedicated my 1000th post so long ago.
I have considered dedicating this post to U2 itself, the band whose music helped me get survive my senior year of high school, whose music got me moving nearly every morning during college, and whose music has helped us cope during this time of war -- if even in some small way. But I will not.
I have considered dedicating it to my girlfriend, the love of my life, who is currently some 800 miles away from me. I love her and miss her more than I will ever express here, but I will not dedicate this to her, either.
As meaningless as the gesture must be, I am dedicating this post to the six thousand who lost their lives on September 11th, the six thousand casualties of this war between freedom and terror, between democracies and despots.
The number still astounds me. I've posted to this forum 1500 times in the last year and a half. I would have to dedicate each post -- each thoughtful observation, bit of humor, random thought, and note of criticism -- to four human lives that were lost in a single day because of the deliberate efforts of men who hate us. Airline pilots and stewardesses, passengers on the planes; office workers, janitors in the World Trade Center and the Pentagon; rescue workers, volunteers who came to the towers to help; all dead.
Jesus Christ commanded us to love our neighbors -- our friends and even our enemies. These people were nobody's enemies. Even if I couldn't bring myself to love every one of them, I can't bring myself to such hatred as to want to kill them, and to do so in such a brutal manner, and to do so at the expense of my own life -- and it simply dumbfounds me that an entire organization was able to bring themselves to do this. They accomplished their goals, and these six thousand are dead.
So, I dedicate this to the memory of those who are gone, and ask all of you who are still here, especially you Americans who have lost so many kinsmen, to honor their memory:
Never forget September 11th. Never forget the lives lost. Accept nothing less than the eradication of the terrorist organizations that did this and the regimes that encouraged them. Never forget that we were targeted because we are free; that our foreign policy is not a record of shame or indictment; that from Kuwait to Somalia to Yugoslavia to even humanitarian aid in Afghanistan, we have risked our lives to help the groups that either allowed this to happen or suggest that we deserve what we got. Remember when we make mistakes, we are called evil, and when we do nothing, we are "uncaring" And when we help, we are "imperialists". We are hated regardless of what we do, because we are hated for who are: Americans, free men and women. Never forget that freedom was also attacked that morning. And never forget that, as long as there is the light of freedom, there will be those who are willing to die to extinguish the flame.
Don't allow yourself to grieve so much for the dead that you are of no use to the living. To those that are stuck in a moment you can't get out of, get yourself together. The longer your existence is in ruins, the more complete the victory of the terrorists, and the less able you are to help others, to stay informed, and to stand with our nation in its decision to respond.
Myself, I just returned from the local comedy club, having watched the greatest comedian of our time, Lewis Black. The evening of September 11th, I wept uncontrollably. Tonight, I laughed just as hard -- especially because of a joke involving N*Sync, Aerosmith, and two donkeys having sex, but that's neither here nor there. I laughed and laughed, and it felt good.
This Wednesday, I'll be making the long drive to Notre Dame to see our boys. After I wept that Tuesday night, I forced myself to listen to some of U2's most inflammatory songs: "Sunday Bloody Sunday", "Wake Up Dead Man", "Peace On Earth". That was very theraputic, and I hope the concert will be more uplifting as 10,000 other fans join and make a joyful noise. As Bono said in the Psalms introduction, the smoke goes upwards.
And next weekend, I hope to be at my old school, holding the love of my life, watching my football team from inside the stadium -- for the first time this year. My passion for Auburn football runs deep, deeper than my connections for U2 and Star Wars, as I've been going to games since I was two years old. Getting back to roots that deep will most certainly help.
Whatever it is that moves you -- what gets your blood, adrenaline, and passions flowing -- do it. Listen to your favorite U2 album, and watch your favorite movie. Go see a comedian or a huge sporting event. Elevate your soul.
DO SOMETHING. Give blood, give money, give your time. Just go out of your way to be nice to people, to meet others' needs, to make another human being's day just a little brighter.
Since the September Massacre, I've been moved to give blood. I was turned away that day at the makeshift blood bank on campus; there were simply too many donors. I drove by the central blood bank and was told to call and make an appointment. I then left phone messages and emails in an effort to set up a time to donate. Once that appointment was made and the day came, I was turned away because of an irregular pulse, doubtless the result of a combination of jitters and caffiene. I had to go by the doctor's office to have my pulse checked out and get a doctor's note. And, just today, I have made a second appointment to give blood this Monday.
Trying to help may be inconvenient and frustrating; you may have to offer to help several times before your offer is heard. You may have to make sacrifices to help. But in these times, sacrifices will be necessary; your help will be needed.
Finally, pray. I do not think that we earned this attack. I refuse to stand with Falwell and suggest a lax morality prompted this; and I refuse to agree with Michale Moore and suggest that our foreign policy led to this. This is not a sign we should repent of anything, but it is a reminder that life is fleeting, that the most important things in our lives are our loved ones and our relationships with God. So, I suggest we all look to the Creator for comfort and strength, that we become closer to God while we still have the chance.
Everything else? Leave it behind.
These things I write, and this post I dedicate, for the memory of those we lost on September 11, 2001.
------------------
- Achtung Bubba
