Not sad but not excited by the death of a terrorist

When something is thrown upwards, there is a point at which the object’s upward momentum and the force of gravity are equal. For some time period — even if it is incredibly small — when the object hangs suspended. That is the emotional space I have occupied since learning about Osama bin Laden’s death. Any relief/closure/positive emotion has been tempered by my normal instinct that death is bad and deaths, even of bad people, are not meant to be celebrated.

Now, I should confess a few things. I grew up on Long Island and live in Washington, DC. My emotional location vis-à-vis 9/11 had been a strange place. It remains one of the worst days of my life and few things would make me happier than seeing the towers built back exactly the way there were and despite knowing New York as well as I know any place on earth, I still get lost in lower Manhattan sometimes because I still look for the WTC when I get out of the subway. Growing up, that was my compass in the city. It may always be. These are the reasons, my liberal friends tell me my opinion of anything 9/11 related is less valid because I am too close to it.

At the same time, I will never think we should do to ourselves what the terrorists could not; destroy out way of life and take away our belief in the ideals that inspired our republic. Racial intolerance cannot be mistaken for vigilance against terrorism. We cannot convince anyone outside of the US  to believe that we believe in the importance of the rule of law if we do not apply it uniformly within the US. And the Bill of Rights is as important today as it was on 9/10/2001. These are the reasons my conservative friends tell me my opinions on this subject are less valid because I “do not understand the impact 9/11 had on America.”

You can see the paradox. One might think these opinions would give me more reason to hate Osama bin Laden but I don’t. I can’t. He doesn’t deserve that. The closest thing I have had to “joy” at seeing him be killed was when I laughed at a photo of President Obama that had the caption “I am sorry it took me so long to get you my birth certificate, I was busy killing Osama bin Laden.”

At the end of the day though, if I were to become the kind of person who celebrates any loss of life — even of someone as reprehensible as this mass killer — I just become more like them and I don’t want that.

My experience with the “birther issue”

No, I am not a member of the Tea Party.  I am not a conspiracy theorist.   Occam’s Razor could be tattooed on my forehead.  I think Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone and we went to the moon.  Anyway, you get the point.

In late 2008, I was working as a freelance writer/PR person.  For a very brief period I wrote for a Sunday morning, political round table television show (won’t say which one but the host is super obnoxious and, for once, I am not talking about David Gregory — hint two: it’s also not Chris Matthews, whom I have never met).

In one morning meeting the host told us (there were two writers and the host in the room) what he wanted the theme of the next show to be.  They then recanted a tale of political intrigue that defied logic.  The then President-elect was planning go go back to Hawaii to retrieve his real birth certificate from Kenya that was cleverly hidden under the left, third drawer of his grandmother’s study (seriously, how would that detail get out?).  The host went on to explain the people who had been hired, sometime earlier in the President’s life, to cover up his real birth place and forge a new birth certificate, which is the one that was released.

To me, this story was/is/will forever be, absurd beyond belief.  My first reaction was to laugh really hard and I said, “THAT’s the story your’re going with?  Really?”  I also pointed out how absurd that was. Being really new to writing for TV, this was probably not my best plan and the host’s reaction backed me up on  that point.  They back peddled a bit and then said, “I didn’t say it was true, I just said people are saying this.”  Right.  I am not saying he’s a liar, I am just saying other people are.”

In a subsequent conversation, we had a back and forth that went like this:

Host, “You, you are obsessed with Obama!”

Me: “No.  No, really, I am not.  If anyone has Obama-fatigue, it is me.”

Host: “Obama fatigue, where did you get that?”

Me: “I just said it.”

Host: “I cannot figure you out.”

There would be few more of these pleasant exchanges as soon after, I was informed my services would no longer be needed at the program.

I am not saying I was fired for not supporting this birther nonsense.  I am just saying some people are.

(Note:  I am a Obama supporter.  I voted for him in 2008 and will do so again in 2012.  On the morning of the above conversation, I had seen two disturbing pieces of memorabilia — a toilet seat with the First Family on it and some sort of random OTC medication that claimed to be “Obama’s favorite.”  My fatigue was more attributable to that than any thoughts I had about the now President.)