Obligatory 9/11 post

[averygoodun42]

Nineteen years ago today, I woke up very, very early in the morning with a nosebleed. It wasn't terribly unusual for me to get nosebleeds, or even wake up from them, so I calmly pinched my nose, got some toilet paper to stuff up my nose and went down to watch Saturday morning cartoons. I rarely ever got to watch them as I was born a night owl.

I was looking forward to that day. It was my friend's birthday, and, because it was a Saturday, she was actually able to hold her birthday party on the day itself. It was to be at the local roller rink up in Longmont, and I was excited to get to rollerskate again.

But the party wasn't till one o'clock, and it was only about six at that point.

I watched cartoons all morning, replacing the makeshift nose tampons as necessary. I can't remember the cartoons themselves, but I do remember thinking that they weren't worth setting the alarm clock for, though I was glad to have something to watch.

At eleven o'clock, my mum decided I shouldn't go to the party, as my nose was still bleeding. I was severely disappointed, but I was starting to feel tired and ill, so reluctantly I agreed with her.

At about 12:30, I got that feeling that I was going to be sick. I turned off the tv, and went upstairs to sit on the hamper in front of the toilet to wait. I didn't have to wait terribly long, because as I was looking at the poster above the toilet, something happened. The dark background of the poster was suddenly cut into a prismatic grid, and as the colors grew, they blended into white. It was very pretty and it almost distracted me from how dizzy I had become.

I woke up on the floor covered in my own blood. I felt the need to retch, so I managed to wrench myself up and lean over the toilet. I was vaguely disturbed that what came out wasn't bile, but blood. I didn't think too much about it, though, because I fainted again at that point.

When I woke up again, I was too weak to move. My mum was just beyond the closed door, across the hallway, talking to my brother on the phone. I called out for my mum as loudly as I could, but even to my own ears it sounded weak. I tried reaching for the door, but I couldn't even slide my arm across the wet floor. I do believe that I fainted again at that point, although perhaps calling it fading into oblivion would be more accurate.

When I woke up, my mum was standing over me. I don't remember her face as she took in what must have been the most horrifying scene of her life, and I'm glad. She called my sister to call my dad at work, while she ran the tub with lukewarm water.

I remember the water temperature because I felt cold, and I liked hot baths.

My dad couldn't be reached, so my sister ran over to the neighbors to ask if we could borrow their car to get me to the emergency room. The neighbor moved her car to our driveway while my mum dressed me in, ironically, my rollerskating dress. It was the easiest thing to get on.

They bundled me up in a pink blanket and had just situated me in the neighbor's car when my dad pulled into the driveway. He hadn't got the message because he'd been too intent on getting home. He'd known something was wrong, just as my brother had when he told my mum to check on me.

In all, I lost about three pints of blood. It doesn't sound like much, but I was a tiny, little 40 lb ten-year-old, and I'm still amazed that they didn't give me a transfusion then. But, being 1988, I think they were being extra cautious about transfusions because of the AIDS furor. As is obvious, I didn't die from the lack, so it was all okay.

Crises come in all shapes, sizes and varieties. To me, my personal crisis is more important to my life than what happened six years ago to this country. But then, I'm a narcissistic sort, and I didn't lose anyone in the attack.


Six years ago today, this country suffered a successful attack on its main soil. It was not the first time, and it probably won't be the last time. Should it be remembered for all time? Maybe, but then why have we forgotten the other successful attacks? And why should we hold it in our memories? To instill remember the fear? Or to remember that we are a part of a wider world which we have pissed off to a very great degree?

Bullies have to expect someone to stand up to them at some point in their lives, but, somehow, they are always surprised when it happens. I'm not condoning terrorism, but I also am not going to support the blind patriotism that seems to overcome this country whenever the phrase "9/11" is mentioned. More evil has been wrought from our reaction to the event than the event was evil in itself.

We did wrong, we suffered, but we did not learn from it.

So yes, let's remember. But let's try to remember what's important.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

Well honey, I still remember that day far, far too clearly. And it was about three pints of blood you lost. I love you. Mom

[averygoodun.livejournal.com]

Oh. I guess I blocked that out. I wonder why.

I love you too, Mum.

[darth-kittius.livejournal.com]

I agree with what you said... I don't think most people remember the day for the reasons I think it should be remembered. And I got into some HUGE arguments right after 9/11 because I didn't fall into that blind patriotism. Like HUGE, RAGING arguments about the fact that I could still be an American, who understands the ramifications of what happened, and did not believe we had to blindly follow whatever the military does.

[averygoodun.livejournal.com]

I wasn't terribly surprised at how horribly Bush dealt with the crisis, but I was APPALLED at how, only a week after he stumbled around being relatively useless (I remember one person bemoaning, the fact that they voted for him), the spin doctors had successfully rewritten history to show him as a wonderful leader who handled the crisis admirably.

It still makes me sick.

I was impressed, though, that it took, what, a full month? or was it two? before we went on the offensive. It almost made me hopeful that we weren't as militaristic as we are.

I didn't get into any arguments at the time about that, though. I was arguing about the need to laugh as the best way to heal.

[darth-kittius.livejournal.com]

At the time I lived in a house with three other people. I'm moderately liberal (liberal on social issues bout realistic-libertarian most other things). One was uber- conservative at the time (he's mellowed out and become almost downright liberal in the last six years). Another was uber-liberal. And a third was strict libertarian, but mostly staying out of our discussions. All four of us were in grad school for our MAs in International Relations. We spontaneously combusted into debates on normal days… in the days surrounding a major event like that it was - explosive.

I remember standing in the kitchen being YELLED at because I refused to support the President of our country no matter what he said. There was disgust and hate directed at me (and the uber-liberal) for our vocalizing the absurdity of Bush's rhetoric in the 7 days following… I exited many conversations by slamming the door to my room and trying to meditate in order to calm myself down. I was, and still am, disgusted by those who refuse to even allow debate on any topic.

There were two really bad fights at the time, which I still remember. One was about Bush. But the other was because I mistakenly left my book (the Gore Vidal book on the roots of why others might just want to attack the US) out when some friends were coming over to watch a sporting event. OMG, I was ATTACKED for even reading something that might insinuate that US actions might have had any effect at all on someone's desire to do horrible acts. I literally took a few moments before responding because I just couldn't believe that I was being harassed for reading a book -- I hadn't even vocalized if I agreed with the book or not.

[averygoodun.livejournal.com]

It's way, way, way too late now, but a good reaction to get the other person to shut up (or get yourself physically attacked) is to ask why they're so defensive.

The blind patriotism I think is a form of sanctioned defensiveness. [chant]we don't want to think about the ramifications, so we will support our country. rah. [/chant]

The thing that has scared me the most from the 'new' world of terrorism isn't the threat of another attack, it's the fact that we as a people believe what we're told.

[chant] If you aren't with us, you're against us.[/chant]

[darth-kittius.livejournal.com]

You're absolutely right.

Related, and rhetorically, I want to know why our students are not taught critical thinking skills anymore. Or maybe most people never were. I really don't know. But I'm alarmed at the "don't question authority" mentality that seems to be coming out of most schools these days -- even colleges! I know my parents made sure I went to good schools, but I learned to question EVERYTHING at a young age. Not in a disrespectful way -- a very important delineation. But not take what someone else (even a teacher) says as fact... to always question everything. Maybe that's why I'm so cynical now.

[averygoodun.livejournal.com]

I don't know, but I want to know why not, too. Perhaps it's the lack of history. We really do get a crap education in history in this country. Perhaps it's the lack of funding in our schools, which leads to overcrowding which leads to authoratative teachers. Perhaps it's the lack of time people have to themselves, and the overwork required of most people, leading to an exhausted populace.

Perhaps it's propaganda...

[ashfae.livejournal.com]

I entirely agree with this, and it worries me a great deal. We spend so much time in school, but it's so rare to find a teacher who wants you to learn to think...

[darth-kittius.livejournal.com]

My ex and I were just talking about this actually... because he didn't learn to critically analyze text until he was getting his MASTERS degree. And he went to a VERY respected high school & undergrad. How does someone get to 30 without realizing that what they read in the papers might just not be fact... but someone's view on the facts (or fiction)? You should have seen the arguments we had before we dated!! Between taking the newspapers, and everything in them, as fact and believing that theory had nothing to do with anything in his life… yeah. We got into it a few times.

I know there are teachers out there who do challenge kids to think, my mom among them, but most of the ones that I know are at private schools. So where does that leave the public school students? Learning how to take tests? And not learning how to question the questions?? Because I know when I got answers wrong on standardized tests, it's usually because I felt the question was phrased improperly and I would answer the question as stated. (And because I'm a bit of a brat, I'd answer the question as stated even though I knew they were looking for another answer. Had I not done that, maybe I would have managed a bigger scholarship to grad school… hmm… well can't go back and re-take it now.)

Boy, I'm really on a babbling roll today, aren't I?

[averygoodun.livejournal.com]

And because I'm a bit of a brat, I'd answer the question as stated even though I knew they were looking for another answer.

I'm a brat that way, too.

It's scary, isn't it, how many intelligent, supposedly well-educated people don't think about things. It's so dangerous. (I just reread "Wandless Magic" by Deeble today. Ah, a decent instruction manual on curtailing civil liberties...)

[zalena.livejournal.com]

The Roll-a-rena! It's now a flea market. What I remember most vividly (in addition to their hideous brown skates) is the mural with Darth Vader wearing rollerskates.

Re: 9-11 - all I've been able to think about for the past few days is that it happened on a Tuesday, and the shock that it's only been 6 years. It seems like it's been much longer, especially since I was living in NYC at the time.

[averygoodun.livejournal.com]

I don't remember Darth Vader... perhaps I was too young to have seen the movies and really get the joke. But I also remember the ugly brown skates. :-)

So much of your life has changed... or if not your life itself, then your outlook. It's rather amazing, isn't it?

[zalena.livejournal.com]

Do I seem different to you? I'm on the inside here, and sometimes I think the perspective is not the same as it is on the outside.

I'm having a rough night because I'm in the middle of reviewing a YA 'sickie' about a teen dying of terminal cancer. It's really getting to me in a way I didn't think it would. So long detachment, hello, mortality. I cranked up ye olde 'people to call when I shouldn't be talking to ex-boyfriends' list just to try to hear the friendly (and living) voices of people I love. No one is home (or willing to talk to me) on a Tuesday night. Where are they?

The good news: I don't think I need the list to avoid calling ex-boyfriends anymore.