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September 10, 2001: “Make no mistake, it’s not revenge he’s after. It’s a reckoning.”

He, too, has resigned his part
In the casual comedy;
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
Transformed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.

Easter, 1916 by William Butler Yeats

I’ve been trying to remember September 10 but it’s no go.

I know what I must have been doing, but I don’t remember what I did. I kept no notes on that most ordinary of September days. I kept many notes on the day that followed and the days, weeks, months and years that followed that day. What I do know is that whatever might have followed September 10 was taken from us all that day never to be returned or recaptured only avenged. What I do know is that “justice being served” has no part in it, and never did.

I can, of course, assume what I did — what I must have done — on a routine Monday in Brooklyn Heights. I would have gotten up and showered in my strange bathroom with half a tub. I would have dressed for work; maybe a white shirt and a tie and a suit. I would have walked a block and a half to the Clark Street Station and taken an elevator 11 floors beneath the surface of the earth, ridden a train deeper still under the East River, and gotten out at Penn Station, walked across the street and taken the elevator up to the eleventh floor, and worked my way through my day before repeating the journey back to Brooklyn Heights. I must have done those things and done them without knowing it would be the last time I would do them in a heedless fashion. It was just the pattern my life had come to in all the long New York years leading to September 10.

I can, of course, look and see what the nation and the world was concerned with on September 10. John O’Neil, the FBI’s leading counterterrorism expert was dining at Elaine’s Restaurant on the Upper East Side, and telling his fellow diners, “We’re due. And we’re due for something big. Some things have happened in Afghanistan….” O’Neill would be dead within 24 hours when the South Tower collapsed. On the same day, Iran denied, not for the first or last time, that it was trying to develop nuclear weapons. Down on Wall Street the Dow Jones index remained flat at the close of business and the New York Times wrote, not for the first or last time, of “the darkening economic outlook” while noting that most economists didn’t “anticipate a full-blown recession.” Overall the hottest news story in the nation concerned Michael Jordan’s pending return to professional basketball. The news that day was a case of the banal overshadowing the mundane.

It was against that background of works and days that the doors of history swung open and we all walked through them forgetting to ask, “What fresh hell is this?”

We were soon to know the nature of the new hell and we were all thrust into it without repeal. The days turned to months and the months turned to years and now we have turned around and a decade is gone. What might have been ours, for good or ill, in that decade was forever stolen from us. Stolen from us not — never doubt this — by one man alone, but by a host of savages and throwbacks spread around the world and here among us and dedicated to our destruction. A host that will use any means necessary to destroy this nation while this nation “serves justice” up in spoonfuls and creates “Rules of Engagement” with which to hamper those who would defend it with their very lives.

What the nation has become, through death by fire, bravado, war, forgetfulness, treason, and blunt stupidity could not have been foretold on September 10, but here we are — a lurching ship of state captained by a malicious hater of the American soil. That same captain, maddened by his own stunted heritage, will today disgrace the soil of Ground Zero. It is a difficult reality that has been dealt by the hands of fate; one that is still being played out.

Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death.

SEPTEMBER 1, 1939 W.H. Auden

Now over a decade and a half has passed, “a low dishonest decade,” since the day after September 10 and the thing that looked like a man, the monster that set the events of the 11th in motion, has been expunged from the Book of Life. Too easily and too quickly for my tastes but my tastes in these matters are rooted in Scots’ blood, and that blood demands punishments too severe to write down here or to hold in the mind for long.

Some would say that his death with a bullet to the brain and then the use of the body as food for crabs and worm on the bottom of the ocean means “Debt paid” and “War over” and “Victory.” Let that be to them as it will be, but my blood says that it is not paid, not over and not a victory.

My blood says that all of those in his line need to be expunged, and that all of those who emulate and revere his manner of thinking need to be expunged, and all of those in his part of the gene pool need to be drained away and destroyed, root and branch. My blood says, “Carthago delenda est.”

From what little I know of history, what little I know of our enemies, I know in the marrow of my bones that there will come a terrible day in which that final judgment will be rendered and that final act shall be done. And as it was on the day after September 10, I remain relentlessly for this reckoning; a reckoning that is still to come, but like September 11 itself, certain to arrive.

Alert the Authorities!

Comments on this entry are closed.

  • WiscoDave September 10, 2017, 8:47 AM

    I, too, can’t remember that day. But I do think of those that went about that day, in each their own way, with no idea it would be their last full day on this plain of existence.
    Just like I go about each and every day…

  • Jack September 10, 2017, 8:51 AM

    Good article and I agree completely. I’m old but I would love to help bring righteous destruction to them, served up in spades and with a fury that even those bastards would shrink from.

  • Howard Nelson September 10, 2017, 10:49 AM

    Your words, your meditation, should be spliced into our dna, for this reckoning will go on for many generations. Madrassas continue to teach hate for all others. Until that ideology is shown to be idolatry, and shattered, we must be on guard and on the offensive.
    Will what we teach in our homes and schools activate that dna spirit-slice?

  • jwm September 10, 2017, 12:16 PM

    @Howard Nelson:
    Get it into their DNA, indeed. Call me the fool for thinking it was inborn. Progressivism, leftism, or whatever you choose to call the insanity infecting the West has had the effect of cultural AIDS. In many it has destroyed the ability tell Good from Evil; it has ruined the most basic instincts of cultural survival. The desire to defend one’s self and one’s civilization has been lost in these people. Dennis Prager has said, many times, that there is a three-way battle going on for the future. Broadly stated, it is the Judaeo-Christian West, the Progressive left, or islam. The sheep have been well and truly separated from the goats. The alignment of sides is complete.

    JWM

  • Fuel Filter September 10, 2017, 2:14 PM

    Will re-post “A Desert Called Glass” on 9/11

  • Bob Sykes September 10, 2017, 2:54 PM

    I fear that final judgement will be entered against us, America, and that Islam will have its final revenge, perhaps via North Korean nukes.

  • Madhatton September 10, 2017, 3:49 PM

    I was there . I ran into it to get my grandlings . I still smell it , see it , cry it . Look grandmom, thereare people falling ! No that’s debris .. no i see legs .
    Went to episcopal st luke’s that sunday . Before their “service ” .. let us pray for our muslim brothers .. and not judge . Well fuck that . I felt punched . The fires were still burning . Never went back to that ” religion” of crap , i hate this time of fake rememberance with those who don’t mean it , don’t see the war against innocent.