Sunday, September 11, 2011

"Evil is real and so is courage"

This is the day we remember.  Remember the sinking feeling in the stomach as the news reports came in.  An accident.  Another plane.  Not an accident.  The Pentagon.  Not an accident.

There are no words to convey the contempt I feel for Dionne and his fellow travelers, who are tired of remembering 9/11.  It's so sad.  It happened ten years ago, can we just get over it already?  It's such a downer.
And then she was fire and then she was ash.
That little girl would have been 12 years old now, if she had lived. But no, some pinheaded jihadis just had to use a passenger airplane (that they could never have built) and fly it into a glorious skyscraper (that they could never have built) BECAUSE THEY HATE US.  They hate the West for inventing all the things they use for their bombs.  They hate science, they hate learning, they hate tolerance. They especially hate little girls.  So if you want more of that, Mr. Dionne, by all means bare your throat to the knife.  You do realize they also don't know how to sharpen them?

Today is not a day of community service, despite the President's attempts to make it one.  Islamic terrorists did not attack us because of roadside litter, or poorly maintained hiking trails, or unpainted housing for the poor.   (The uncovered hair and bare arms rate 3.8 fatwas, Mrs. Obama...)  The things we value, even the things liberals value, they loathe and want to wipe from the Earth.  I intend to fight them until they NEVER ATTACK US AGAIN.  When they fear to attack us again.  That's when we'll know "it's over."

Richard Fernandez puts it perfectly:
The story of September 11 must for all time become the story of how a certain date became unspeakable to al-Qaeda and its followers; a tale of how this day of all others,  became the blackest day in the history of Islam. It should forever be a date that can never be mentioned without arousing a deep sense of shame throughout the Middle East so that in generations hence, people should still come up to strangers unbidden and say, “I’m sorry for September 11. “  Until then it is unfinished business.
We have no right to forgive. We have no right to forget. We have no right to move on until this final condition is met. That in the holy of holies of our civilization’s enemies, in the innermost recesses of their sanctum sanctorum they should say with heartfelt ardor: never again. Never again. Never, ever again.


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