9/11/2015.

So, yeah, fourteen years ago somebody tried to kill me.

Don’t get me wrong: the danger I was in that day was not acute.  Thanks to what turned out to be an act of exceptionally back-handed luck I was nowhere near either the Pentagon or the Towers that morning. Dan McLaughlin republished his annual 9/11 remembrance today; he felt them aim at him, which must be infinitely more disquieting.

But I still took away from 9/11 the realization that there were people out there who wanted to kill me. And everybody I knew and liked. Heck, they wanted to kill the people I personally disliked, too. I forget who said it first, but there were exactly two ways that you could respond to something like 9/11. You could get scared, or you could get angry. I got angry. Based on the way that people who got scared typically reacted (and still do), I think that this was and is the wise choice.

Moe Lane

PS: I wouldn’t have even written this up – I felt a good deal of closure and, frankly, satisfaction when I heard that Osama bin Laden took a bullet in the back of his head, then got dumped in the Indian Ocean – except that the weather today took me back. Not a cloud in the sky.