Like millions of Americans, I was asleep by the time the news of Osama bin Laden's death was announced; I read about it the next morning.
I was surprisingly moved. My first reaction was to be transported to that morning, remember where I was, what I was doing, how I felt. How I felt the rest of that day. I thought of my friends and loved ones and where they were, what they were feeling and experiencing. Images of the people jumping off the towers flashed through my mind...I imagined what it must have been like to have been in one of the planes, realizing you were about to die. It was a somber moment.
Next, I was disgusted by the revelry in Times Square, the chanting at the Mets/Phillies game, and such. Shirtless, presumably drunk, college boys running around with American flags as capes. It looked like a cross between 4th of July and St Patrick's Day.
Shame on you.
Celebration is for the end of war, the end of violence. This is not over. Decades of Western oppression have created some really bad blood, to say the least. What attacks are next? What terrorist organization and leader will emerge now? What will the US's relationship with Pakistan look like? To say nothing of how ape-ish, war-mongering, hateful, the Times Square photos look to the rest of the Western world, as well as those who despise this country.
A sense of closure? I hope so. A sense of peace, or inner peace? I really hope so, for the people who experienced that awful day. Partying? Jubilation? I'm sorry, you made me sad.
Click forward a few days and I drew this lovely rendition of the villainous Nazi, the Red Skull, pursued by the Falcon and Captain America on a meeting agenda. I had my Stradlaeter brush pen with me, so I was able to ink about half of it during the meeting, and I finished the rest (and eliminated much of the agenda with white out and p-shop) later. Definitely feel like I am channeling my inner Andy Soriano.