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Of course I care! Do you not see my American flag t-shirt with the weeping bald eagle on the back?

September 15, 2010

We didn’t put up a post on 9/11 so I guess that makes us bad Americans, or it could just mean that we’re able to get through our day without slinging around empty platitudes on our Facebook updates.  “Never Forget 9/11!”  then followed by “OMG, JERSEY SHORE’S ON TONIGHT! JWOWW RULEZ!”  I guess if you can’t watch eight of the most awful human beings to ever set foot on MTV (and that’s saying something) embarrass Italian-Americans nationwide everywhere then the terrorists have won.

Anyway, we at Renal Failure spent our 9/11/10 like we spent our 9/11/01, getting drunk, and we decided to have a roundtable discussion on when 9/11 had stopped being a national tragedy and had mutated into something else, whether a day of kitsch (as Lora over at Fever astutely noted), or an excuse to be a self-entitled jingoist asshole,  or as a rhetorical device to be used by people with the emotional and intellectual capacity of an abused child who eats paint chips.

“I think it was when I heard the first person say 9/11 changed everything,”  says Ninja Vicki.  “At that point it stopped being a tragedy and became an excuse for people to run with any dumb shit that their brain could piss out.  Like all the laws of physics and logic had ceased to exist and in this postmodern void you could say and do whatever your fear desired if only you could abandon your senses of self-awareness and decency.”

Note: Tag Larkin had not adhered to the laws of physics or logic prior to 9/11, and thus Tag Larkin did not have to sacrifice anything to achieve his dominance over time, space, reality, power, mind, soul or any other Infinity Gem not yet discovered.

“It was when people who had decried New York City as a desolate den of liberal inequity and perversion for years suddenly started sucking New York’s dick like a fucking Hoover,”  says Tina the Lesbian.  “And how people who make their money saying unions are destroying America and should be abolished suddenly discovered they totally love the cops and firefighters, even though they belong to those filthy communist unions that get together with Marx and Lenin and Stalin and gang-rape liberty in the basement of their socialist frathouse.”

“The first time I saw a 9/11 t-shirt,”  says Mikka.  “Today you’re wearing Never Forget, tomorrow you’re wearing I’m With Stupid.  Your message is fine, but your choice of medium really undercuts the tragic element of that day…”

“Yeah, for me it the first time I saw the first items of 9/11 commemorative memorabilia,”  says Samurai Cathy.  “They weren’t selling commemorative plates when Pearl Harbor got attacked, or when Kennedy got shot.  Congratulations, we’ve commoditized a horrific event and are passing the savings to you!”

Sparkly 9/11 gifs showing up on Myspace,”  says Avonia the Wiccan Pimp.  “When you can express your grief for 9/11 in the same way you can tell someone they’re a special friend, it becomes less catharsis and more a pissing match to see who remembers 9/11 the hardest.”

“I think it’s when people started saying 9/11 should be a national holiday and we should get off from work for it,”  says Bernie the Half-Cyborg Cat.  “Japan doesn’t give people the day off on the anniversary of the atomic bomb being dropped on Hiroshima, and that was like a thousand 9/11’s.  Plus, what if there’s some new tragedy that kills twice as many people as 9/11?  Do we strip 9/11 of its holiday status and give it to the new tragedy?  It’s a horrible precedent.”

“It was when I couldn’t get laid anymore just by mentioning 9/11,”  says Anonymous Doug.  “There was a stretch where all you needed was a FDNY t-shirt and you could get any trim you wanted.  Now the 9/11 pussy train has stopped and girls at the bar think I’m wearing some sort of designer knock-off of DKNY.  Fuck you Donna Karan.”

These days 9/11 has become more of a reminder of how old I’m getting, seeing how next year is its tenth anniversary and I had graduated college in 2001.  I used to use an old t-shirt that said I had been on a ski-trip during the Blizzard of ’96 as the primary gauge on my “damn, that was that long ago?  Shit, where does the time go?” meter. And that’s coming up on 15 years next year.  Shit, where does the time go indeed…

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11 comments

  1. how do I get an invite to that socialist frat house basement?


  2. Down here they’re back to bashing the police and fire unions. But I think that’s because they raised some hell with local government about updating their equipment.


  3. I’m in favour of the national-tragedy-as-moveable-feast approach. It would be a suitably chilling reminder of the transient nature of things.


  4. You have no idea how pleased I am to have my name listed on a post so close to the others.

    I’m feeling one step closer to being one of your imaginary friends.


    • Maybe Tag Larkin can catch your next improv show, whenever that is.


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  6. 9/11 amazes me as a great example of moral disconnect.

    We should get all weepy and indignant over a tragedy that killed over 3000 people but not over the same number that die in traffic accidents every month or the tens or thousands of Iraqis and Afganis that we’ve killed in retaliation.

    Life should be valuable no matter who’s life it is or under what circumstances it’s lost. Well, unless they’re French, in which case fuck those dirty frog sluts.


    • That’s the lesson… if you’re going to kill 3,000 people, space them out and people won’t care so much about it.

      Alternate lesson: Americans can kill Americans all day long, but if some non-American kills an American, then we lose our shit. Conversely, non-Americans aren’t supposed to get mad at Americans when we kill them because… uh, just ’cause, that’s why. Maybe it has something to do with America being the best at killing people. I’m not certain on that one.


  7. Wait, it was the anniversary of 9/11? When did this happen?


  8. MAN but I want to drink with you guys!

    Pearl


    • Just keep showing up to read stuff here and eventually you’ll find a place at the bar.



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