O God! O God! that it were possible
To undo things done; to call back yesterday
That Time could turn up his swift sandy glass,
To untell the days, and to redeem these hours.
-- Thomas Heywood (1574?-1641), A Woman Killed with Kindness (Act 4, Sc. 6)
This Thursday, we are taking a break from the usual "Skeptics Collection" column to give an opportunity for all the blog writers to recall where they were and what they were doing on September 11, 2001. The memories are as personal and as individual as those of the people who were actually there in New York City on that fateful and by-now-iconic day that did so much to mold American national policy and character in the ensuing days, months, and years. What are your memories of September 11? How did that day change you?
I try to make it a practice to stay out of arguments to which I am outsider. I figure, as my long-ago maternal grandfather in Arkansas used to say, “I ain’t got no dawg in ‘at ‘ere fight”. So if our neighbors are having an argument among themselves, even if the argument is clearly audible from our deck in our own back yard, I tune it out. But if and when – this has never happened – if and when our neighbors were to stop shouting at each other and began to allow their Glock-9s and H&K MP-5s to do their talking for them, I would not hesitate to make it my business. Or rather, the moment the first ammunition round crossed the line between our properties, the neighbors themselves would have made it my business. Such is the situation in the Islamic world today. The most glaring diff