Voices in the Wilderness

Good morning all. It’s that day.
Yes, I have a piece with my thoughts coming. It’s not quite there yet… but soon. Stay tuned.
I am filled with a complete lack of interest in viewing the day’s events on television. I fear the overpackaged, airbrushed and “appropriate” remembrences that I’m sure will overwhelm the normally rational voices that make up my daily radio streaming diet.
But I find myself very interested to hear what my fellow webloggers have to say on this day.
I was tempted briefly by the idea of trying to capture as many sentiments as possible and post links to them here, but quickly realized that idea was redundant; many others, I’m sure, will do so. For starters, you should visit Perfect Morning. And then perhaps keep an eye on Martin’s page, where he is keeping a running list of links in his navbar.
So: No grand claims or attempts at comprehensiveness. But I think I’ll highlight those that speak to me most throughout the day, nonetheless. It is something to do. And on this day, that seems more important that usual.
Here’s a start.
Stephen Green: “Life goes on, gets better. The War sees setbacks and victories. I don’t have to sleep to the news anymore.Thanks to fellow bloggers, readers, family, and my bride, I don’t worry, get morose, or wallow in pity. But I still dread the phone at eight A.M.”
Patrick Nielsen Hayden: “Have a good 11th. Turn off your television. Light a candle. Be kind.”
Glenn Reynolds: “I’ve thought about what to do to observe the anniversary of last year’s atrocities, and I’ve concluded that the main thing I can do is to keep on blogging…Fancy memorial pages aren’t what I’m good at. (Go here for one of those.) So while I’m going to post a couple of retrospective items, I plan to spend today thinking about today, and tomorrow — not last year.”
Andrew Ian Dodge: “I am not going to stop posting because of the date, however I shall only be making this post on the subject. I will be paying my respects with a decent bottle of wine. I shall raise my glass and raise a toast to those who died. It is the way I ended that terrible day a year ago.”
Joe Katzman: “It is a time of war. The question before us – the only real question – is whether we will prolong its bitter duration and human cost by failing to acknowledge the obvious. The true monument to those we have lost is not self-pity. It is victory. Then, and only then, we may find some time of peace.”