The Changed World
From Atrios:
Not so long after 9/11 I was in an airport, and a group of 3-4 young, probably college-aged, guys were walking by. One of them saw George Bush on the teevee and loudly and enthusiastically shouted “He’s The Man!” His companions looked at him slightly quizzically, and he backpedaled a bit, amending his proclamation by saying, “Well, he’d better be…”
None of us who lived through September 11, 2001, are ever likely to forget how that day felt. What might be harder to remember is the days, and weeks, and months that followed — how it hung over us, and clung to us, and sunk into us.
Everything looked different. Whenever a plane passed overhead, we would look up and remember. Whenever a firetruck passed by, or a siren sounded, we would look up and remember. It was hard to sleep. We newly understood something about impermanence and mortality.
It seemed we might never laugh again. On Comedy Central, The Daily Show featured serious interviews with serious people. Jon Stewart said, “We don’t know how to be funny right now.” Hollywood edited the twin towers out of shots of the New York skyline — the briefest glimpse might stir up emotions that would overwhelm any movie it was in.
On September 12, the headline on Le Monde in Paris said “We are all Americans.” On September 13, at the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace in London, the band played “The Star Spangled Banner.” I saw it on television. It took a few seconds for it to sink in. We Americans had friends everywhere.
Passing strangers on the street, we would exchange a knowing glance, understanding that we shared something now — knowing that we were all in this together.
And, unbelievably, George W. Bush and Karl Rove saw this changed world, and what they thought was this: “What’s in this for me?”