Print Page
Send to Friend
September 11, 2001: two planes crash into two of the World Trade Center buildings in New York City, killing around 10,000 people. A third plane then crashes into the Pentagon in Washington, killing even more people yet. Total chaos errupts, and all of America gets totally fucked.
Ha! Man, I'm a poet and I didn't even know it.
Prime suspects in this are Osama Bin Ladin and the Taliban crew. No shit. Odds are, you probably already know the full story by now, considering it's been in every newspaper, TV station, and radio station all over the world. Hell, if you don't know what's going on, then you seriously must've been living beneath a rock or inside a cave somewhere for the last month. It's all everybody even talks about anymore. But if you don't know what the fuck's going on, even now, then you can still turn to CNN.com and they'll fill you in on the whole "tragic" story in every spectacular detail. Hard to believe there could be so much news coverage and footage, and all they got is mere speculation, a few hunches that they hope will pan out. But of course, as any cop or detective will tell you: the longer the investigation goes on, the colder the trail gets. In any case, there's more than enough media coverage regardless, and from the looks of things, they are never going to let this thing go! Pull out all the stops, baby, 'cause this is the big one--this is the one that really counts!
So what are my thoughts on the whole fiasco, you ask? Well, come on now--you don't think I'm getting all depressed or scared or angry like the rest of this country is, do you? This is me we're talking about; Johnny Bastard, the deviant, the misanthrope, the evil sociopath who hates the world and wishes it all dead. So while everyone else is donating gallons of blood to the Red Cross and sending them all their money to help out the poor innocent victims, as they all offer each other solace, hugging as they cry over one another's shoulder, I will remain the black sheep, perhaps the only one blissfully enraptured as this historic event continues to unfold. I never saw this coming either; it took me completely by surprise, as it had nearly everyone else. But to me, it was more like winning the Powerball jackpot--something you hope and pray would occur, something you are always anticipating, but also something that--deep down inside--you wouldn't believe would ever happen in a million years. But now that it has happened, I can't help but anticipate the next big attack. What'll it be next time? Nukes? Biological warfare? Ooh, the possibities are endless!
And I'm not the only one to think of that either. Seems everyone has that thought running through their mind. What'll happen next? What other horrors will those dreadful Taliban terrorists inflict upon us next? Only unlike everyone else, I think of this as fond anticipation rather than outright fear.
It was fear that made many of those inside the Twin Towers jump through the windows, taking their chances with the 30-story fall straight to the streets below, to their own deaths, rather than facing the flames as they dance and explode in their faces, threatening to consume them completely. And look at the delicious terror on the faces of those on the streets, running for their lives...
And now, in the aftermath, every American fears that this might not be over yet.
Why else, despite their now overt patriotism, their feeling of being even more united than ever before--an American flag over nearly over building, on the wall of every business, and on almost everyone's car as well--would they be so willing to give up the freedoms they so cherished, which they value now more than ever before? I could care less what kind of effect this will have on an already damaged economy, or how much freedom America will have to sacrifice to win the war against terrorism. While others may be touched by how many are willing to help out in the clean-up of the disaster in New York, and how united we have all now become, while some may be weeping sentimentally, it all is completely meaningless to me.
It is the upcoming war that I am most concerned with.
I have always loved the prospect of war, always loved the carnage it entailed, and yearned to be a part of that carnage myself, to participate in the bloodshed. Of course, it would be the enemy troops that my fire would mostly be aimed at, but who knows; I might slip occasionally. Accidents have been known to happen, and once or twice, for no apparent reason whatsoever, it might be my own comrades that end up within my crossfire as well. Ah, nothing like a little friendly fire to spice things up a bit. The fun to be had while fighting a war is limitless. Some who volunteer to serve in any particular war the nation my be involved in might do it out of a sense of patriotism, for glory perhaps, but always for the love of their country. Yet there are others who enlist during times of war to satisfy their own natural bloodlust. And in case you haven't guessed it, I am most obviously of the latter of the two groups. I'm well aware that I myself could be killed by the enemy, and I am perfectly okay with that; once in a war, it will not be my objective to survive, but to take as many people with me before I myself am struck by the one fatal round.
Ten years ago, back when the United States was involved in the Gulf War, I had tried to enlist in the services, offering my own life to fight for my country, secretly so I could kill as many of my fellow human beings as possible, and do it legally to boot! Yet I was unfortunately rejected because of psychological problems. What a crock! I mean, ok, so I'm a bit psychotic. I make no bones about it; I'm one sick bastard. You'd have to be a real sicko to not only say all of the shit that I have said here within this installment of my online "diary" but to say it honestly, to mean every last word of it. Yes, I am a psychopath, but so what? Should that alone be reason enough for them to so cruelly reject me, to deny me my lifelong dream to fight in a war, any war, and masecre everyone dumb enough to be caught in the crossfire? It's discrimination, I say, discrimination to the highest order and I won't stand for it!
I tried once more to get recruited into the army, in hopes of participating in this war we are about to have now. But again they rejected me, this time because of my age. I was too old to fight in the war. So once again, they refused my services, and denied me my dreams.
Still, I whole-heartedly support George W Bush's approach to dealing with the whole situation. A war against not only the Taliban but against terrorism in general. In other words, this is gonna be one long war! And I like that. I like that a lot.
And I, Johnny Bastard may still somehow find a way to participate in the bloodshed, after all...
September 27, 2001