on osama

me: i’m moved and all
but this celebrating in the streets makes me a little uncomfortable
but, perhaps i’m not a real american
M: well, no i think it just means you have a rational sense that this is a significant but considerably symbolic victory
me: and rejoicing in the streets seems like a good recipe for what was already certain martyrdom
that all said
it’s cool as hell that he knew about this during the correspondent’s dinner last night
M: youre right about that
I KNOW
baller

As you might have heard, Osama bin Laden is dead.

Like many, I waited (and waited…and waited) for President Obama to make the annoucement last night.   I joked that I spent most of my time avoiding tourists, drunk Caps fans, and GW students, so I’d pass on joining in the celebrations.  After Obama’s speech, several people I know (and nearly every professional and amateur photographer in the city) went down to the White House to join the crowds in Lafeyette Park.

I did not.

Osama bin Laden was a mass murderer.  He was responsible for a horrific attack that hit very close to home for me (literally and figuratively) and for thousands, if not millions of other Americans, to say nothing of the other brutal attacks all over the world.  He took one of the world’s oldest and most peaceful religons and twisted it into a perverted doctrine that only a dedicated few recognized.

But.

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