Ground Zero

It's just about two-thirty; time for you to pick up the kids from school, isn't it ? Go ahead and finish your coffee first. I know, you'd rather stay and watch the television; stay and sob over the wreckage of New York; the smoking rubble, the solemn newscasters, the missing and the dead.  It seems to have made you nervous. But you have nothing to fear; the American Dream will protect you just like it always has. You want to blame Achmed for this massacre, don't you ? But did Achmed really do it? Achmed's busy looking for a few grains of rice to feed his family; Achmed's busy trying to keep the flies away from his dying child. He seems to have other things on his mind, things the America Dream  has always protected you from. Why do you blame Achmed anyway ? Because Achmed doesn't look like you ? Or dress like you, or talk like you ? Achmed isn't a member of the "club", is he ? Neither is that black guy you pass on your way to work every morning, the one who isn't worth your attention. Or those hispanics on the other side of town. Or me. So who really tore down those two towers ? You did it, you sorry bastard. You tore it down with your stock options and your widescreen television; you tore it down with your house in the suburbs, your white pickett fence and those three cars in the driveway. You can put the American flag on your car if you want to, but would you be willing to give up that car and walk your fat, lazy ass down the street? No.  I didn't think so. Until you do, Achmed will be back. And he'll have help this time. It might be that black guy you pass on the way to work every morning, the one who isn't worth your attention. It might be those hispanics on the other side of town. Or it just might be me. Well, it's almost three o'clock now. I guess you should pick up your kids from school. They do have that recital tonight, remember ? I'm sure they'll all do very well. Written October 15th, 2001 © on Oct 15 2001 02:49 PM PST   18 • 0 • 1