THE BOGEYMAN OF 9/11

Ding Dong! The Witch is dead.
Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch!
Ding Dong! The Wicked Witch is dead.

- “Ding Dong! The Witch Is Dead” from The Wizard of Oz (1939). Lyrics by Harold Arlen.

Revenge is a dish that is best served cold.

- Khan Noonien Singh (Ricardo Montalban), in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982).

The Missus and I were in the Old Fart-Sack when we heard the news about OBL’s obliteration. We had been watching “Celebrity Apprentice” - another one of SWMBO’s guilty pleasures - all the while enjoying the heady combination of contestant vitriol and viciousness coupled with The Donald’s heinous combover and botched tanning-booth glow. Then, at some point late in the proceedings, the news folks broke in to warn us of an impending Special Announcement from the President.

Whatever could that mean? I wondered. Sunday night is not a traditional time for dropping News-Bombs. And it was right about then that the talking heads informed us that the news had something to do with Osama bin Laden: Either he was captured or dead.

Moments later they said that the president would announce that bin Laden had been killed... and, almost as if in response, the sleep timer shut off our teevee. There was no need to turn it back on, I figured. We already knew what the Big News was and had no pressing need to hear it directly from our Fearless Leader.

As we became aware of more details this morning, I found a certain satisfaction in knowing that bin Laden had been slain on the eve of Holocaust Remembrance Day. Bin Laden was an enemy of Western civilization in general, but he harbored an especial hatred for Americans and for Jews, and so it was especially fitting that he should perish on a day when we remember not only the six million Jews murdered during the years of the Third Reich, but also the seven-odd million non-Jewish victims of the Nazi death machine.

I was also pleased to learn that the Great Bogeyman of 9/11 died, not in an attack by an unmanned drone or laser-guided missile, but in a hail of bullets as his secret redoubt was stormed by American forces that included Navy SEAL’s and CIA operatives. Boots on the ground.

I recalled some of the words of Psalm 30:

I extol you, O Lord. You raised me up.
You did not permit foes to rejoice over me.

Tears may linger for a night, but joy comes with the dawn.

While at ease I once thought:
Nothing can shake my security.
Favor me and I am a mountain of strength.
Hide Your face, Lord, and I am terrified.

You turned my mourning into dancing.
You changed my sackcloth into robes of joy.

Robes of joy? For some, maybe. For me, however, it’s not so much a cause for celebration, but an opportunity to remember those who died at a monster’s hands... and to be thankful for those brave ones who gave them some measure of vindication.

This guy gets it exactly right. Bothered by the unseemliness of our dancing around like the Palestinians did on 9/11, he reminds us:

I don’t care how heinous the slain monster be, people who dance when blood is spilt have a little bit of their soul missing. Justice is grim stuff, and should be treated with respect.

Osama bin Laden’s death after a decade-long manhunt closes a chapter in history that began with the attempted destruction of the World Trade Center in 1993, reaching a horrible peak during the coordinated attacks of September 11, 2001. It is a bookend of sorts.

And as for The Donald? With this announcement having served as a postscriptum of sorts to Trump’s tchainik-hocking over l’affaire Obama birth certificate, he has now made himself look like a complete buffoon whilst polishing our Fearless Leader’s halo to a fare-thee-well. Way to go, Trumpster!