Christopher Hitchens takes Professor Cole to school on what Persian words mean:
In some ways, the continuing row over his call for the complete destruction of Israel must baffle Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.
I have to say, that this is a brilliant opening line of the article. Hitchens has a way of finding the key truth that eludes most of us, but once stated, is stupefyingly obvious.
Christopher Hitchens takes Professor Cole to school on what Persian words mean:
In some ways, the continuing row over his call for the complete destruction of Israel must baffle Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.
I have to say, that this is a brilliant opening line of the article. Hitchens has a way of finding the key truth that eludes most of us, but once stated, is stupefyingly obvious.
Watching United 93, Gerard Vanderleun remembers the other heros of that day:
Far away on that day, far from the pillar of flame and plume of ash at the foot of the island, there was another fire in a field in Pennsylvania. Those nearby felt the shudder in the earth and saw the smoke, but it would be some days before we understood what it was, and longer still until we began to know what it meant.
The film I saw by myself tonight expands that meaning and brings a human face to the acts by the passengers of United 93 that endure only in that rare atmosphere that heroes inhabit. What I know in my heart, but what always escapes my understanding until something like this film renews it, is that heroism is a virtue that most often appears among us not descending from some mythic pantheon, but rising up out of the ordinary earth and ordinary hearts when the moment calls for actions extraordinary.
I saw this ordinary courage in New York on that day as I learned of the police and the firemen who had gone up the stairs to save others’ lives. That they, in their hundreds, had gone up when all others were fleeing down is an image that can never be erased from my memory. Time fades all impressions as surely as it faded the faces of the missing on the walls of my city, but let’s, just for now, remember it it once again, for it we fail to remember and sustain the memories of our heroes, we are surely done as a nation and a people.
Watching United 93, Gerard Vanderleun remembers the other heros of that day:
Far away on that day, far from the pillar of flame and plume of ash at the foot of the island, there was another fire in a field in Pennsylvania. Those nearby felt the shudder in the earth and saw the smoke, but it would be some days before we understood what it was, and longer still until we began to know what it meant.
The film I saw by myself tonight expands that meaning and brings a human face to the acts by the passengers of United 93 that endure only in that rare atmosphere that heroes inhabit. What I know in my heart, but what always escapes my understanding until something like this film renews it, is that heroism is a virtue that most often appears among us not descending from some mythic pantheon, but rising up out of the ordinary earth and ordinary hearts when the moment calls for actions extraordinary.
I saw this ordinary courage in New York on that day as I learned of the police and the firemen who had gone up the stairs to save others’ lives. That they, in their hundreds, had gone up when all others were fleeing down is an image that can never be erased from my memory. Time fades all impressions as surely as it faded the faces of the missing on the walls of my city, but let’s, just for now, remember it it once again, for it we fail to remember and sustain the memories of our heroes, we are surely done as a nation and a people.
Watching United 93, Gerard Vanderleun remembers the other heros of that day:
Far away on that day, far from the pillar of flame and plume of ash at the foot of the island, there was another fire in a field in Pennsylvania. Those nearby felt the shudder in the earth and saw the smoke, but it would be some days before we understood what it was, and longer still until we began to know what it meant.
The film I saw by myself tonight expands that meaning and brings a human face to the acts by the passengers of United 93 that endure only in that rare atmosphere that heroes inhabit. What I know in my heart, but what always escapes my understanding until something like this film renews it, is that heroism is a virtue that most often appears among us not descending from some mythic pantheon, but rising up out of the ordinary earth and ordinary hearts when the moment calls for actions extraordinary.
I saw this ordinary courage in New York on that day as I learned of the police and the firemen who had gone up the stairs to save others’ lives. That they, in their hundreds, had gone up when all others were fleeing down is an image that can never be erased from my memory. Time fades all impressions as surely as it faded the faces of the missing on the walls of my city, but let’s, just for now, remember it it once again, for it we fail to remember and sustain the memories of our heroes, we are surely done as a nation and a people.
Michael Totten describes a visit to northern Israel, at the Lebanese border:
Rush Limbaugh has an interesting interview with Paul Greengrass, the (“liberal”) director of United 93:
GREENGRASS: I’ll tell you one of the most chilling things that I have learned from my experience of looking at terrorism. About 20 years ago the IRA bombed the hotel where the prime minister, Prime Minister Thatcher, and her cabinet were, and about ten people were killed, and Prime Minister Thatcher — who I never agreed with politically in the entirety of her career, but she was our prime minister, and I don’t agree with blowing her up. Luckily she escaped. Later that night, the IRA issued a statement. They said, “Tonight you were lucky. You have to be lucky every time. We only have to be lucky once,” and in that expression is the heart of the mind of the terrorist operation.
“We only have to be lucky once. You have to be lucky every time,” and the truth is we can’t always be lucky.
That’s why we’ve gotta find somewhere solutions to these things, and we have to be prepared, it seems to me, and maybe you and I aren’t going to agree about this, to look at what we do and ask ourselves some tough questions about it. Are what we’re doing, are the things that we do, the things that they want us to do? Because one of the things terrorists want to do is goad us, make us react in ways that make the problem worse. I’m not making a political point now. I’m just, you know, answering the question, and that also is in this film. You know, we, all of us, wherever we stand on the political spectrum, if we’re going to confront this problem and prevail, have got to ask ourselves hard questions and be prepared to challenge our beliefs. Because unless we get some consensus here, we’re not going to prevail.
If you’re going to see the movie this weekend, it’s a good time to reread (or read for the first time, if you missed it) humorist Dave Barry’s staggeringly unfunny, but masterful essay on the event. I wish I’d written it. I wish I had a tenth of the talent it took to write it.
Michael Yon explains what he meant earlier, in a must-read photo essay.
…sitting in a tree. K I S S I N…
Gee, here’s an interview with Thomas Jocelyn, on what the captured documents have revealed about their relationship.
The same document…indicates that Iraq was in contact with Dr. Muhammad al-Massari, the head of the Committee for Defense of Legitimate Rights (CDLR). The CDLR is a known al Qaeda propaganda organ based in London. The document indicates that the IIS was seeking to
Cindy Sheehan’s excellent Easter adventure. I guess she can do this because she has, in Maureen Dowd’s words, “absolute moral authority.” I’m not a Christian, but if I were, I’d be appalled.