Until his execution, Timothy McVeigh’s only reget over the loss of innocent lives was that it detracted from the larger message of his “gesture” in Oklahoma City — a protest against the seige on the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas. A seige in which 17 children died.
“We did this to ourselves.”
That was my first thought last September. In my mind’s eye, I didn’t see extremists in turbans at the control panel of the airplanes. I saw crew cuts and capped teeth and bright blue eyes.
My first assumption was that we had done it to ourselves again, that this disease infecting Humanity was only in remission . . . that we’re terminal.
“We did this to ourselves and there is no cure.”
It’s April again. How many more broken children will be pulled from the rubble this year? In Afganistan? In Palestine? Maybe even in Iraq?
We’ll weep at the pictures on CNN and in USA Today. We’ll feel the sharp tug of sorrow over some innocent child cradled in the arms of a rescuse worker or a weeping mother.
But the disease will still burn within us. And we’ll forget soon enough. It’s the only thing we’re really good at.
The writing is on the wall…
The tanks are on the border…
The finger’s on the button…
“The bitch that bore him is in heat again…”
Never, never forget.