Of An Old Tired Man

I was just sitting listening to the music in the furtherleft chat room, when Sept.11, 2001, crossed my mind..... I know it is an old worn out subject by now, but occasionally my minds wonders back to that day, as it events were one of the most traumatic and influential things in my life.

Like most in the USA, my original reaction was anger, anger at the deaths of 3,000 people, angry that the sanctuary we call our homeland was violated,anger mostly because no other emotion seemed to fit.

After the initial shock and anger, the next things that came to mind was the question,WHY? Why would anyone want to do this to us, to My Country, to 3,000 innocent people.

You see up to this time, after a brief period of activism in the 1960's and seventies, I like a lot Americans,was living an almost contented, middle class, scrambling up the ladder, type of life. That life was on hold on that day because of a recent fall and back injury, so I had plenty of time to think and reflect.

There comes a time in a person's life when all he/she has learned and experienced seems of no avail in providing answers, or even the right questions.

The days following 9/11 was that time for me.

At such a time, the seekers of truth of the WHY, will climb their "spiritual"mountain to seek truth from his/her old man at the top.

I never did find the old man at the top, but I did ascend the mountain, and from the top of that spiritual mountain all you can see is the truth. At the top of that mountain the truth is all there is, you are above the clouds of illusion, the smog of subterfuge. All there is the truth.

The truth is like the ex lover we all have had. We wish we could see him/her again, but hope like hell we never do.

The truth that day has changed my life. The truth showed me that day, that America(USA), was not what is was pretending to be(really something I knew all along, but did not want to admit).

In the view of truth from that clear mountaintop, I could see all the bombs that have been, and will be dropped by the USA, for no other reason, but that we can.

I saw the the blacks of the past hanging from sycamore trees.

I saw 1,000's of Native Americans, who's life and land has been stolen from them, and although they are allowed to live, they are reduced to to living a life of alcoholism and violence, and poverty on reservations, a once proud people now just wards of a foreign power, of the invaders.

I saw the millions of starving people in third world countries, who barely etched out a living working at starvation wages, so the USA could continue to live in luxury.

And finally I saw hundreds of millions of Muslims, who should be living the richest lives on earth, living as slaves to USA and Israeli puppet governments and leaders.

I saw the children who died while still at an age they should be playing games with friends, burning with napalm, the women who all they wanted was to love and raise their family, treated as whores by USA soldiers and big businessmen.

And Last of all I saw the fathers. I saw the anger in their eyes, the hate in their hearts, the determination that this is enough, we will take it no more.

Now I understood where the planes came from and why, and although my heart still mourns for the lives lost on 9/11/2001. I see now these planes came from the hate and determination in those fathers eyes.

Would I have done less, I hope not!