Words and things, mostly words.
I never have much to say when the anniversary of 9/11 comes up. When it happened, it was exactly a week after my 18th birthday. This was a very formative time in my life, as I was just reaching my late teenage years and going through a lot of changes. I had made new friends outside of school, a good number of my friends graduated while I went back to school for grade 13, I was working, I went from excruiciatingly straight-edge to smoking weed and cigarettes. Then an event that literally changed the whole forever happened.
Next year, I will be 36 years old — I will be as far from 9/11 as I was from my birth when it happened. Not to say that I saw everything that transpired in the wake of 9/11 coming, but I made reasonable guesses and ended up more right than wrong — unfortunately I’m only good at predicting bad outcomes. (The TL;DR is I figured an egregious expansion of the surveillance state. the invasion of Iraq, and a bunch of “misc. authoritarianism” were all safe bets after an event like that.)
In less-than a year, kids who weren’t even alive when 9/11 happened will be deployed to Afghanistan…. People will be able to vote who never knew a time before you had to do stupid shit like take off your shoes at airports, when you could fly with more-than a shot glass of liquid on your person, or when you didn’t have to choose between a concerningly high-radiation scan or a pat-down that could verge on a sexual assault.
Hell, I barely remember those times — and not all of those memories are in colour anymore.