First: context (for posterity)
The mere idea that news media is dutifully broadcasting massive groups of people vigorously celebrating clandestine military murder is absolutely fucking terrifying to me. I don’t care WHO they killed. There is something very, very wrong with this picture. I won’t pretend to be naïve enough to not understand humanity’s inherently dark/brutal/repugnant nature. Honestly. But to see such an enormous public display of it does give one pause.
What is also fucking terrifying is this jingoism over Getting The Bad Guy. Not only because there are always more Bad Guys -- real and imagined -- but jingoism to any degree is terrifying; that blind hysteria of patriotism leads to all sorts of nasty things, the least of which is gleefully handing over civil liberty. At worst, we’re going full bore into barbarism in the name of upholding some bizarre ideal that no one can actually define, but it sure feels good to be on the team, don’t it, fellas.
Apart from proselytizing over the general implications of this fucking circus of a blood spectacle: as someone who was, you know, present for the events of 9/11, as someone who wiped ash and human remains off the windshield of the family car … I don’t know how I feel that the man supposedly responsible for fucking my city and destroying like a gazillion lives in some form or another is dead (supposedly). From a purely emotional standpoint? Well. Um. OK, I guess? I can’t get past the whole Too Little Too Late thing. I’m not real sure what his death has accomplished. I don’t feel assuaged or avenged. I am certainly not about to take to the streets waving a giant flag and decreeing my undying love for my country and its assassins. This may sound very 'hug a tree, why don't you,' but I guess I'm just not sure that more death in a sea of fucking deathdeathdeath was the answer. I don’t even think there is an answer.
I just want to crawl into a hole, really. I don't like humanity or the fucked up world I live in very much today.
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