Never forget to roll when supporting our troops

Never forget.

It's tattooed on firefighters' arms. Widows wear it as a gold pendant. Collier County in Florida dedicated a memorial to it. The conservative Young American's Foundation organized a project named for it, and countless politicians have used it as a rallying cry.

With only a few days until the third anniversary of the coordinated attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon, we are urged to "never forget." The request is on bumper stickers and pins, message boards and blogs, and the lips of every smug, self-righteous prick in the New York City metro area.

But no one explains what, exactly, we're being asked to remember for all eternity. That the NYC skyline is missing a few buildings? That United Airlines and American Airlines are missing a few planes? That thousands of families from around the world are missing a few relatives?

We know. We saw it live on CNN.

"Never forget" is more empty jingoism ("Let's roll; Support the troops") meant to invoke a sense of outrage and moral superiority in Americans. We're better than them because we honor our politically convenient dead again and again and again -- to the point that, three years later, we demand "proper burial" for microscopic dust that may or may not contain what passes for human remains.

Short of a catastrophic brain injury, it's impossible for anyone to forget that day's events. Yak farmers in Nepal knew what happened. It was broadcast around the world and archived on the Internet. Documentaries in Europe were made about it, and children's toys in the Middle East were fashioned on it.

We won't forget, just as those who witnessed the aftermath of Pearl Harbor and the bombings of Nagasaki and Hiroshima never forgot, because it changed the course of American and world politics. If there was no September 11, 2001, to mourn over, there likely would have been no cheese-eating surrender monkeys to despise and no endless parade of flag-draped coffins arriving at Dover Air Force Base.

What "never forget" means is: "If you dare attempt to move on, if you do not say a nightly prayer to the victims, if you do not still carry with you the terror that you felt on that day and if you attempt to question the government's efforts to keep you safe, you're un-American and heartless." The pain of a few thousand -- prolonged by a media and political system hoping to milk it for all it's worth -- should be a wound we all carry for a lifetime.

No one expected a Staten Island housewife to erect an altar to the victims of the first World Trade Center attack, but that same housewife demands that we honor her late husband's memory by freezing time. What came before and after are ultimately superficial, and if we are to attain even a fraction of the depth her soul gained on that day, we must display total reverence.

Don't have a yard sale. Don't have a barbecue. Don't think about leaving your house and enjoying life. Sit at home, light a candle and pay your respects to thousands you never met.

But that's not how it works.

Hundreds of men, women and children were murdered in Russia, and we wanted coverage of Hurricane Frances. Seven American soldiers were killed in one attack this week, and we were interested in the FCC fine over Janet Jackson's breast. Outside of a few heavily patrolled areas in Afghanistan, the Taliban still operate without much interference, but hey, that liberating Iraq thing is going well.

Showing more interest in local news or news that's easily digestible is a normal human response. People who weren't directly affected by an event can't be expected to continue to show genuine caring and concern years later, and it's the height of self-absorption to expect your personal tragedy to become a defining moment in the lives of hundreds of millions.

Time keeps moving. When I was 10, I was hit by a car as I crossed the street under the direction of a school crossing guard, and it took months to recover from my injuries. For the next year, it wasn't a terribly pleasant experience to walk from one side of a street to the other. A year after that, I was over it.

I remember the pain--the broken bones, the killer headache, the chills caused by shock and freezing rain--but 15 years later, I can't see a yearly remembrance reinforcing the lesson I learned: never trust anyone who says he can lead you to safety.

According to the logic of those who exploit the events of 9/11, though, I should still vividly recall every ounce of fear and pain I experienced on the day of my accident and subsequent months and relive it annually. But to what benefit?

So, if someone tells you to never forget this Saturday, ask them how they spent April 19.

April 19 has no meaning for them? Exactly.

Providing jack-off material for white misogynists since 1997.

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